Ifx  Douglas  Curry 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/historyofrisepro01dunl_2 


HISTORY 


OF  THE 


RISE  AND  PROGRESS 


OF  THE 


ARTS  OF  DESIGN 


IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


BY  WILLIAM  DUNLAP, 

Vice  President  of  the  National  Academy  of  Design,  Author  of  the  History  of  the 
American  Theatre,— Biography  of  G.  k\  Cooke,— &c. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  I. 


NEW. YORK: 

GEORGE  P.  SCOTT  AND  CO.  PRINTERS,  33  ANN  STREET. 

1834. 


Entered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1834,  by 


WILLIAM  DUNLAP, 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District  of  New-York. 


PREFACE. 


A History  of  the  Arts  of  Design  in  the  United  States, 
given  by  a series  of  biographical  notices,  which  should  show  not 
only  the  progress  of  improvement  in  those  arts,  but  their  pre- 
sent state,  necessarily  includes  the  biography  of  many  living 
artists. 

To  publish  the  biography  of  the  living  is  objected  to  by  some. 
They  say,  if  truth  is  told,  the  feelings  may  be  wounded  ; and 
if  mere  eulogium  is  aimed  at,  truth  will  be  wounded,  the  public 
deceived,  and  that  which  pretends  to  be  history,  will  become  a 
tissue  of  adulatory  falsehood.  But  of  public  men — and  every 
artist  is  a public  man — the  public  have  a right  to  demand  the 
truth.  The  most  interesting  portion  of  my  work  is  the  biogra- 
phies of  living  artists;  and  it  throws  a light  upon  the  lives  and 
actions  of  those  who  have  departed,  which  could  not  be  obtained 
in  any  other  way.  Every  artist  wishes,  and  ought  to  wish, 
that  public  attention  should  be  called  to  him.  It  is  for  him  so 
to  conduct  himself,  both  as  an  artist  and  a man,  that  his  works 
and  his  actions  may  defy  scrutiny,  and  his  reputation  may  be 
increased  by  a knowledge  of  the  truth. 

The  artist,  the  author,  and  every  other  public  man  may  rely 
upon  it,  that  their  lives  will  be  scrutinized  in  proportion  as  they 
attain  the  celebrity  which  they  desire.  They  may  likewise 
expect  that  the  world  will  be  curious,  and  wish  to  be  made 
acquainted  with  them  after  their  decease,  and  that  some  one 
will  be  found  whose  interest  it  is  to  gratify  this  curiosity.  If 
the  biographer  should  do  them  injustice,  the  time  is  past  in 
which  they  might  defend  themselves  ; but  if  the  living  find 
themselves  misrepresented,  they  can  rectify  errors  or  rebut 
slander. 


IV 


PREFACE. 


“ Nothing  extenuate,  nor  set  down  aught  in  malice/’  like 
most  of  the  precepts  of  our  unrivalled  poet,  is  a part  of  our 
moral  law.  The  artist  ought  to  wish  it  to  be  the  guide  of  his 
biographer.  The  biographer  may  in  pity,  or  in  mercy,  deviate 
from  the  first  part  of  the  precept,  but  never  from  the  last.  If, 
by  obeying  the  whole,  the  good  of  those  for  whom  he  writes  is 
to  be  attained,  let  him  obey  the  precept  in  its  utmost  extent. 
With  these  views  of  the  subject  I have  written  this  work. 

When  I undertook  the  task  I had  no  notion  of  the  importance 
or  magnitude  of  what  I had  undertaken.  It  has  grown  upon 
me  ; and  but  for  the  interest  which  has  been  taken  in  the  sub- 
ject by  the  most  enlightened  men  of  our  country,  I could  not 
have  accomplished  as  much  as  I now  place  before  the  public. 
To  name  those  who  have  assisted  me,  would  be  to  name  the 
best  of  our  artists  and  of  our  authors. 

I publish  by  subscription,  because  I need  the  immediate  return 
of  the  cost  of  publication.  I am  my  own  publisher,  because  I 
wish  to  have  the  sole  control  of  the  work.  I know  that  my  in- 
tentions are  good,  and  that  I have  done  the  best  in  my  power 
to  fulfil  them. 

To  those  who  have  assisted  me  in  the  work  I dedicate  it 
with  thanks. 

WILLIAM  DUNLAP. 


New-York,  Oct.  1834. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  I. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Page 

Arts  of  Design,  what — General  Progress  of  these  Arts — Their  state  in 
Europe  at  the  time  of  colonizing  America — Patronage  of  the  Arts  in 
England,  in  the  eighteenth  century — Biography  of  John  Watson 9 


CHAPTER  II. 


John  Smybert — Dean  Berkeley — Nathaniel  Smybert — Blackburn — Williams 
— R.  Feke — Theus 21 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  first  portrait  West  painted,  1753 — Galt’s  life  of  West — West  “ well 
born” — Birth  and  early  education — Ambition — Encouraged  by  Penning- 
ton and  Williams — By  Henry  the  gunsmith — Doctor  Smith — Prices  for 
which  West  painted — He  is  assisted  by  Mr.  Allen  and  other  liberal  ad- 
mirers, and  embarks  for  Italy — Studies  and  adventures  in  Italy — Splen- 
dour and  misery  of  modern  Italy  at  that  time — Further  encouragement 
to  West  from  his  American  friends 33 

CHAPTER  IV. 

West  in  England,  1763 — Cunningham’s  Life  of  West — Costume  of  an 
Indian  warrior — West’s  great  success,  and  the  friendship  Of  George  the 
Third — West  at  his  esel — His  pupils — Not  a quaker  in  dress  or  manner 
— Declines  the  title  and  supposed  honours  of  knighthood — General  im- 
pression that  he  had  been  knighted — Envy  and  jealousy  manifested 
towards  him — Allston’s  feeling  towards  him — He  visits  France 54 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  great  picture  presented  by  West  to  the  Pennsylvania  Hospital — His 
great  pictures  for  exhibition — Death — Miscellaneous  notices — The  sub- 
jects chosen  for  his  pictures — His  character  by  Sir  Martin  Archer  Shee..  85 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Edward  Duffield — James  Claypoole — Matthew  Pratt — Pratt  the  schoolmate 
and  friend  of  West — Accompanies  Miss  Shewed  to  England — Studies 
with  West — Generosity  of  Pratt  to  a stranger  in  distress — Merit  as  a 
painter — His  sign-painting — Woolaston — Copley,  his  origin — Not  self- 
taught — Great  excellence  before  going  to  Europe — Cunningham’s  memoir 
of  him — Communication  from  G.  C.  Verplanck,  Esq. — Copley  established 
in  London — His  historical  pictures 89 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Page 


Hesselius — Frazier — Patience  Wright — Charles  Wilson  Peale — Peale  visits 
England,  and  is  received  kindly  by  West — Returns  in  1774 — Curious 
error  respecting  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis — Peale’s  Museum — Mam- 
moth— Pennsylvania  Academy  of  Fine  Arts — Mr.  Peale’s  death — His 
many  trades  and  professions.... 131 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Sketch  of  the  history  of  engraving — Implements  used — Early  engravers  in 
America — 145 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  three  Parisiens — L.  Kilbrunn — Abraham  Delanoy,  junr.--Gilbert 
Stuart’s  father  and  the  snuff-mill — Cosmo  Alexander — Gilbert  carried  to 
Scotland — Hard  usage  and  return — His  taste  for  music — Goes  to  London 
— Various  adventures — Introduced  to  Mr.  West — Desultory  anecdotes..  160 


CHAPTER  X. 


Stuart  commences  his  independent  professional  career  in  London — Skating 
anecdote — Baretti’s  criticism— -Dukes  and  lords  praise  his  skill — Paints 
Sir  Joshua  Reynold’s  portrait — Johnson’s  reply  respecting  Burke’s  having 
aided  Sir  Joshua  in  his  lectures — Tom,  Towzer,  and  the  mutton-pie — 
Anecdote  related  by  Judge  Hopkinson  of  Lord  Mulgrave,  and  his  brother, 
General  Phipps — Practice  of  demanding  half-price  at  the  first  sitting  for 
a portrait — Anecdote  related  by  Doctor  Waterhouse  of  Stuart  and  his 
travelling  companions — Extract  from  a letter  of  Mrs.  Hopner’s — Doctor 
Waterhouse’s  testimony  to  Stuart’s  colloquial  powers 183 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Mr.  Stuart  returns  to  America  in  1793 — sets  up  his  esel  in  New- York — 
removes  to  Philadelphia — Great  portrait  of  Washington — Mr.  Neagle’s 
communication  respecting  the  original  Washington  portrait — Winstan- 
ley  and  his  Washingtons — Anecdotes  of  similar  impositions — History  of 
the  Lansdown  Washington,  and  Heath’s  vile  print  from  it — Jealousy  of 
other  artists  on  seeing  Stuart’s  success  with  the  portrait  of  Washington..  195 

CHAPTER  XII. 


History  of  miniature-painting — John  Ramage — James  Peale — W.  Williams 
— Mather  Brown — Thomas  Spence  Duch6 — Bishop  Seabury’s  portrait 
— Robert  Fulton — Thomas  Coram 224 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Autobiography  of  the  Author — General  reflections — My  parents — My  birth 
and  education — Thomas  Bartow — first  visit  to  New- York — School  edu- 
cation interrupted  by  the  invasion  of  the  British — Piscatawa  and  scene 
of  war — Winter  of  1776-7,  at  Perth  Amboy — removal  to  New-York — 
Copy  prints  and  begin  to  paint  portraits — Peace  of  1783 — first  sight  of 


CONTENTS. 


Vll 


Page 

Washington — paint  his  portrait  at  head  quarters — a pig  chace — Joseph 
Wright — preparation  for  London  and  arrival  there — first  visit  to  Mr. 
West — neglect  of  study  and  its  consequences 243 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Visit  to  Lincolnshire — Pedestrian  tour  with  Dr.  Mitchill  to  Oxford — Old 
soldier  of  “ Wolfe’s  own” — Blenheim — Return  to  New-York — Renounce 
painting  and  become  merchant — Literary  studies — Become  manager  of 
the  New-York  theatre — Bankruptcy — Resort  to  painting  miniatures — 
Success — Engage  with  T.  A.  Cooper — Again  recur  to  miniature  painting 
— 1813,  recommence  painting  in  oil — Appointment  in  the  paymaster’s 
department — Travelling  westward — Resume  painting,  and  visit  Norfolk, 
Montreal  and  Quebec — Second  and  third  visits  to  Norfolk — Large  exhi- 
bition pictures .. . . . 262 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Visit  to  Boston — Journey  to  Portland  and  return  home — Pass  the  summer 
of  1823  at  Utica — The  Lunch — Exhibit  my  picture  of  “ Christ  rejected” 
in  New-York  with  success — A winter  visit  to  Washington,  D.  C. — Paint 
more  large  pictures — Albany — Trott  and  Tisdale — Journey  to  Buffalo — 
Letter  from  G.  C.  Verplanck — Contrasted  modes  of  treatment  experienced 
by  my  agents  when  exhibiting  my  pictures — Picture  of  Calvary — History 
of  the  American  Theatre — Visit  to  Vermont — Second  visit  to  Vermont 
— Illness — Doctor  Woodward — Publish  my  History  of  American  Theatre 
— Receive  a high  compliment  in  a benefit  at  the  theatre  I once  conducted, 
got  up  by  my  fellow-citizens 290 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Place  of  Mr.  Wright’s  birth — Carried  to  England  by  his  mother — Returns  to 
America  in  1783 — Letter  from  Washington — Residence  in  New-York — 
Removes  to  Philadelphia — Death  by  yellow  fever — William  Rush — 
Robert  Edge  Pine — Edward  Savage — Trenchard — M.  Houdon — His 
great  reputation  in  Europe — Death — J.  P.  Malcolm — John  Dixey 312 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Egyptian  architecture — adopted  and  improved  by  Greece — Orders — Roman 
architecture — Arabian — Gothic — Modern— American — City  of  Washing- 
ton— Major  L’Enfant 330 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Mr.  Trumbull’s  parentage — education — enters  Harvard  college — copies  Smy- 
bert’s  Cardinal  Bentivoglio — first  visit  to  Copley — enters  the  army  to 
avoid  the  pulpit— stationed  as  an  adjutant  at  Roxbury — becomes  one  of 
Washington’s  family — appointed  a major  of  brigade — Gates  and  Schuy- 
ler— Mr.  Trumbull,  deputy  adjutant-general — goes  to  Rhode  Island,  and 
resigns  his  commission,  March,  1777 — studies  painting  in  Boston  until 
1779 — goes  to  London  in  1780 — studies  with  West — is  arrested  as  a spy  340 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Page 

Mr.  West’s  conduct  on  the  arrest  of  Trumbull— pictures  painted  during  his 
confinement — Release  and  return  to  America- — Embarks  for  England 
again  in  1783,  and  resumes  his  studies  with  West — 1786,  Picture  of 
the  “ Sortie” — Goes  to  Paris,  1787 — Paints  the  beautiful  heads  for  the 
“ Surrender  of  Cornwallis” — Returns  to  America  in  1789 — Pictures 
painted  from  1789  to  1793 352 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Mr.  Trumbull  returns  to  England  as  secretary  to  Mr.  Jay — engages  in  com- 
merce and  speculation — appointment  as  a fifth,  by  the  four  commissioners 
under  Jay’s  treaty — Travels  in  Germany  and  France — marriage — return 
to  America,  1804 — exhibits  a number  of  fine  pictures — his  style  of  paint- 
ing changed  for  the  worse — returns  to  London  in  1809 — paints  historical 
pictures  unsuccessfully — charges  against  Mr.  West 363 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Final  return  to  America  in  1816 — Successful  application  to  congress — Four 
pictures  for  the  capitol — Unsuccessful  application  to  congress — Letter  to 
Mr.  Wilde — Copies — Extraordinary  deterioration — Trumbull  Gallery  at 
New-Haven..... 375 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

William  Winstanley — S.  King — Mr.  S.  King  gives  instruction  to  Allston 
and  Miss  Hall — Archibald  Robertson — Born  near  Aberdeen — Studies 
drawing  at  Edinburgh,  1782,  with  Weir  and  Raeburn — Studies  in  Lon- 
don— Determines  to  visit  America — Opinion  of  that  country — Disap- 
pointed— The  Wallace  box — Mr.  Robertson  paints  the  President  and 
Mrs.  Washington — Guiseppe  Ceracchi — Employed  by  the  Pope  in  con- 
junction with  Canova — Visits  England — Visits  America — Intended  mo- 
nument— Bust  of  Washington — Returns  to  Europe — Attempts  to  assas- 
sinate Bonaparte — Uncertainty  of  the  mode  of  his  death — Benjamin 


Trott, — Jeremiah  Paul 394 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  school  for  the  fine  arts — The  Columbianum — TheNew-York  Academy 
of  Fine  Arts — Pennsylvania  Academy 418 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Alexander  Robertson — Joshua  Cantir — M.  Belzons — English  Earle — John 
Roberts — his  versatility  as  a mechanic,  musician,  painter,  and  engraver 


— intemperance  and  death — Walter  Robertson — R.  Field — Adolph  Ulric 
Wertmiiller — William  Birch — John  Valance — James  Thackara — Alex- 
ander Lawson — Jennings 425 


A HISTORY 


OF  THE 

RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  ARTS  OF  DESIGN 

IN  AMERICA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Arts  of  Design,  what— General  Progress  of  these  Arts— Their  state  in  Europe  at 
the  time  of  colonizing  America— Patronage  of  the  Arts  in  England,  in  the 
eighteenth  century — Biography  of  John  Watson. 

The  author  calls  this  work  a history,  without  presuming  to 
place  himself  in  the  rank  of  professed  historians.  His  history 
shall  be  given  by  a chain  of  biographical  notices,  with  all  the 
discursiveness  and  license  of  biography  ; but,  in  the  first  place, 
he  solicits  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  some  general  remarks 
on  the  subjects  of  which  he  treats, — the  arts  of  design  and 
their  professors. 

The  fine  arts  are  all  of  one  family ; but  it  is  only  a part  of 
this  family  that  falls  within  our  limits.  “ The  Arts  of  Design” 
form  of  themselves  a field  sufficiently  wide  for  us  to  travel  over, 
nay,  too  wide,  and  it  will  be  found  that  we  shall,  from  neces- 
sity, neglect  much  that  would  come  with  propriety  under  the 
title.  Sculpture,  Painting,  Engraving,  Architecture,  and  then- 
professors,  will  occupy  us  almost  exclusively ; and  the  second 
in  the  order  above  given  must  fill  the  greater  number  of  our 
pages. 

Poetry,  as  we  are  told,  excites  images  and  sensations 
through  the  medium  of  successive  action , communicated  by 
sounds  and  time . The  same  may  be  said  of  music  ; but  paint- 
ing and  her  sister  arts  of  design  rely  upon  form  displayed  in 
space . 

Design,  in  its  broadest  signification,  is  the  plan  of  the  whole, 
whether  applied  to  building,  modelling,  painting,  engraving, 
or  landscape  gardening ; in  its  limited  sense  it  denotes  merely 
drawing ; the  art  of  representing  form . Man  has  fully  con- 

2 " 


10 


Progress  of  the  Arts . 

vinced  himself  that  the  human  is  the  most  perfect  of  all  forms, 
and  has  found  that  its  representation  is  the  most  difficult 
achievement  of  design.  The  sculptors  of  ancient  Greece 
alone  attained  the  knowledge  of  this  form  in  its  perfection,  and 
the  power  to  represent  it.  Happily  for  us  their  works  were 
executed  in  such  materials  as  have  defied  time,  the  elements, 
and  even  ignorance,  more  destructive  than  either : happily 
the  architecture  and  sculpture  of  Greece  have  come  down  to 
us,  for  we  have  no  standard  of  beauty,  but  that  which  is 
derived  from  the  country  of  Homer  and  Phidias.  The  sculp- 
tors and  architects  of  Greece  are  our  teachers  to  this  day,  in 
form  ; and  he  most  excels  who  most  assiduously  studies  the 
models  they  have  left  us.  This  seems  to  contradict  the  precept 
that  bids  the  artist  study  nature  alone.  But  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  we  speak  only  of  that  form,  the  perfection  of  which 
the  ancients  saw  in  nature,  and  embodied  in  their  religion. 
That  natural  perfection  which  they  saw  under  their  bright 
skies,  at  the  games  instituted  in  honour  of  their  gods,  they 
combined  in  the  statues  of  those  gods ; diversified  according 
to  their  several  attributes.  The  contemplation  of  these  attri- 
butes added  action  and  expression  to  individual  form.  This 
appears  to  be  the  source  from  which  the  wonders  of  Praxiteles 
and  Phidias  sprung— the  Jupiter,  the  Minerva,  the  Hercules, 
the  Venus,  the  Apollo.  The  contemplation  of  these  forms 
led  to  the  improvement  of  Egyptian  architecture  by  the  Greek 
colonists  of  Asia  Minor.  Siegel  has  said,  that  by  contemplat- 
ing the  Belvidere  Apollo,  we  learn  to  appreciate  the  tragedies 
of  Sophocles.  Such  is  the  alliance  of  poetry  and  the  arts  of 
design. 

The  arts  of  design  are  usually  considered  as  commentators 
upon  history  and  poetry.  Truly  they  are  the  most  impressive 
of  all  commentators.  But  to  consider  them  only  as  such,  is  to 
degrade  them.  To  invent,  belongs  to  the  artist  as  well  as  to 
the  poet  ; and  a Sophocles  may  catch  inspiration  from  a Phi- 
dias, as  an  Apelles  may  be  inspired  by  an  Euripides.  The  poet 
is  never  more  a poet  than  when  describing  the  works  of  art, 
and  the  poetic  artist  delights  to  seize  the  evanescent  forms  of 
the  poet,  to  fix  them  immovably  in  motion — -palpable — in 
all  their  beauty  brought  before  the  physical  eye ; but  it  is  no 
less  his  to  invent  the  fable  than  to  illustrate  it. 

The  progress  of  the  arts  of  design  is  from  those  that  are  ne- 
cessary to  those  that  delight,  ennoble,  refine.  Man  first  seeks 
shelter  from  the  elements,  and  defence  from  savages  of  his  own, 
or  the  brute  kind.  In  his  progress  to  that  perfection  destined 
for  him,  by  his  bountiful  Creator,  he  feels  the  necessity  of  re- 
finement and  beauty.  In  this  progress  architecture  is  first  in 


11 


From  Architecture  to  Sculpture* 

order,  sculpture  second,  painting  third,  and  engraving  follows 
to  perpetuate  by  diffusing  the  forms  invented  by  her  sisters. 

The  mechanic  arts  have  accompanied  and  assisted  the  fine 
arts  in  every  step  of  th«ir  progress.  To  the  sciences  they  have 
been  indispensable  handmaids.  In  all  the  ameliorations  of 
man’s  earthly  sojourn,  the  mechanic  and  fine  arts  have  gone 
hand  in  hand.  The  painter,  the  sculptor,  the  engraver, 
and  the  architect,  will  all  acknowledge  their  obligations  to  the 
mechanic  arts,  and  the  mechanic  will  be  pleased  by  the  con- 
sciousness that  he  has  aided  the  arts  of  design  in  arriving  at 
their  present  state  of  perfection. 

Of  the  four  arts  of  design,  to  which  our  attention  is  directed, 
architecture  alone  is  the  offspring  of  necessity ; but  before  it 
became  one  of  the  fine  arts,  sculpture,  and  perhaps,  painting, 
had  existence.  The  first  effort  of  man,  in  the  imitative  arts, 
is  probably  to  model  in  clay,  the  second  to  cut  in  wood,  and 
then  in  ivory  or  stone.  The  rude  efforts  of  the  aborigines  of 
our  country  may  be  adduced  to  prove  this.  We  find  speci- 
mens of  their  modelling  in  baked  clay,  the  terra  cotta  of  Italy, 
and  sculptured  figures  in  wood  and  stone  ; but  no  attempt  to 
represent  round  objects  on  a flat  surface  by  lights  and  shadows. 
The  late  travellers,  who  have  penetrated  the  terra  incognita  of 
Africa,  tell  us  of  figures  sculptured  as  ornaments  to  the  rude 
architecture  of  the  negroes,  but  they  saw  no  painting. 

In  that  extremely  interesting  portion  of  the  globe,  Polynesia, 
we  find  sculpture  existing  in  the  rude  forms  of  their  idols,  the 
elegant  ornaments  of  naval  architecture,  and  on  the  weapons  of 
destruction ; but  no  attempt  at  drawing,  unless  tattooing 
figures  by  lines  and  dots  on  their  own  bodies — engraving  in 
flesh — may  be  so  called.  The  graphic  art  was  unknown,  as 
much  in  its  connection  with  pictorial  form,  as  it  was  in  that 
more  common  and  still  more  precious  form  to  mankind- — letters. 

In  central  America,  near  the  village  of  Palenque,  ruins  and 
monuments  are  found,  proving,  as  is  supposed,  the  existence 
of  a nation  or  people  in  a remote  age,  far  surpassing  in  civili- 
zation the  Mexicans  or  Peruvians,  when  visited  by  the  Spa- 
niards. Statues,  and  works  in  high  and  low  relief,  ornamented 
their  buildings — but  no  paintings.  The  pictures  formed  by- 
feathers,  or  otherwise,  which  were  found  among  theMexicans,  at 
the  time  when  treachery,  bigotry,  murder,  and  rapine  put  a 
stop  to  their  progress  towards  civilization,  were  not  designs 
representing  the  round  on  the  flat,  but  a species  of  hieroglyphic 
writing ; undoubtedly  having  a near  affinity  to  the  graphic 
art,  and  approaching  it  in  the  same  degree  that  the  people  ap- 
proached the  blessings  of  civilized  life.  It  was  not  drawing  or 
writing,  but  was  leading:  to  both.  At  what  period  the  nations 


12 


Writers  on  the  Arts. 


of  the  East  attempted  painting,  we  know  not,  but  doubtless 
they  carved  their  idols,  and  daubed  them  with  colours,  before 
they  made  any  pictorial  representations  of  the  monsters.  To 
this  moment  they  neither  invent  nor  imitate  any  thing  in  paint- 
ing. They  copy.  There  is  nothing  in  which  their  barbarism 
is  more  apparent  than  in  the  deficiency  of  the  arts  of  design. 
If  the  progress  of  the  arts  was  from  Egypt  to  India,  and  thence 
to  Greece,  they,  on  their  arrival  at  the  latter  country,  were  a 
chaos  without  form  and  void.  It  required  a more  perfect  state 
of  the  human  mind  to  extract  form  from  the  chaotic  mass. 
The  Grecian  sculptors  discovered  form,  and  perfected  the 
mode  of  representing  historical  events  by  high  and  low  relief ; 
their  painters  followed ; and  although  they  arrived  at  the  per- 
fection of  form,  as  well  as  their  masters,  we  believe  that  they 
never  went  much  beyond  them  in  that  which,  in  modern  times, 
is  the  glory  of  the  arts  of  design — composition.  They  told 
their  stories  as  their  masters  had  done,  by  a line  of  figures. 
The  Greeks  taught  us  beauty  and  expression  ; modern  art 
has  added  colour,  chiara  scuro,  perspective,  composition- — 
all  by  which  distance,  space,  air,  light,  colour,  transparency, 
solidity — may  be  brought  before  the  eye  on  a flat  surface.  The 
painter  knows  no  limits  but  time  and  place,  and  even  the  last 
has  been  burst  by  Raphael  and  by  Tintoret ; but  it  is  only  the 
author  of  the  Transfiguration , and  the  Adoration  of  the  Gold- 
en Calf  or  men  like  them,  that  may  break  through  the  limit  of 
locality. 

Of  the  many  elements  of  art  and  science,  which  must  com- 
bine to  produce  these  almost  miraculous  effects,  it  is  not  our 
immediate  province  to  speak ; neither  to  give  the  history  of 
the  progress  of  painting  and  her  sister  arts  in  Europe.  The 
writers  before  the  public  are  many  and  good.  We  will  men- 
tion a few,  as  the  names  are  suggested  to  memory— Vi  sari, 
De  Piles,  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Albert  Durer,  Du  Fresnoy,  (with 
notes  by  Reynolds,)  Winkleman,  Mengs,  Reynolds,  Opie, 
Fuseli,  Pilkington’s  Dictionary,  (with  additions  by  Fuseli, 
who  has,  in  all  his  works,  immense  learning  on  the  subjects  of 
which  he  treats,  though  sometimes  displayed  rather  than  used,) 
and  we  must  not  forget  Shee  and  Burnet.  The  remarks  of  Sir 
Martin  Archer  Shee,  touching  the  writings  and  writers  on  the 
subject  of  the  arts,  appear  to  us  so  just  and  so  essential  to  the 
correction  of  error  and  prejudice,  that  we  insert  them,  not- 
withstanding that  there  may  be  an  appearance  of  assumption 
in  so  doing.  They  are  addressed  to  the  students  of  the  Royal 
Academy  of  England. 

“ There  is,  perhaps,  no  subject  so  unmanageable  as  that  of 
the  arts,  in  the  hands  of  those  who  bring  to  its  discussion  only 


13 


England  once  behind  othe r Nations. 

the  superficial  acquirements  of  amateur  taste  and  mere  literary 
talent.  As  it  is  an  alluring  theme,  however,  to  all  who  are 
disposed  to  wander  in  the  regions  of  virtu , more  flimsy  and 
unsubstantial  speculation  has  been  hazarded  on  topics  connect- 
ed with  the  fine  arts,  than  is  found  to  encumber  the  path  of  the 
student  in  any  other  profession.  The  tracts  of  science,  of 
law,  and  of  physic,  are  too  rough  and  thorny  to  be  frequented 
by  those  who  would  traverse  them  as  an  amusement,  rather 
than  as  an  occupation  : but  the  flowery  domains  of  taste  invite 
the  approach  of  the  idlest  loungers  of  literature  ; they  are 
considered  as  common  ground,  where  all  may  claim  free 
manor,  and  range  at  large,  without  any  apprehension  of  ex- 
posure or  punishment,  either  as  pretenders  or  trespassers. 
The  fine  arts  appear  to  be  the  only  pursuit  in  which  the  autho- 
rity of  the  professor  is  undervalued  by  those  who  derive  all 
their  knowledge  from  his  works.  But  you  must  not  allow 
yourselves,  gentlemen,  to  be  influenced  by  prejudices  of  this 
kind.  To  the  writings  of  artists  alone  can  you  look  with  any 
confident  hope  of  obtaining  valuable  instruction  or  useful 
knowledge  in  your  profession.” 

In  our  mode  of  giving  the  history  of  the  progress  of  art  in 
this  country,  principally  by  a chronological  series  of  biogra- 
phical notices,  we  shall  undoubtedly  speak  of  men  who  in  no 
wise  aided  that  progress  ; but,  we  hope,  by  giving  as  complete 
a view  of  the  subject  as  can  now  be  obtained,  to  place  in  the 
hands  of  the  future  historian,  many  valuable  facts,  which  would 
otherwise  have  been  lost ; and  to  leave  information  respecting 
those  professors  of  the  arts  who  have  failed,  as  well  as  those 
who  have  attained  to  honourable  distinction — information 
which  may  guide  the  present  and  future  student  on  his  way  to 
the  wished-for  goal. 

Horace  Walpole  gives,  as  the  reason  for  calling  his  work 
“Anecdotes  of  Painting  in  England,”  instead  of  the  “Lives 
of  English  Painters,”  that  the  greatest  men  England  could 
boast,  as  professors  of  the  art  in  that  country,  were  foreigners. 
Not  so  with  us.  In  the  commencement  of  our  history  as  colo- 
nies, every  painter  w^as  from  beyond  sea;  but  no  sooner  did 
native  artists  appear  than  their  works  exceeded  in  value  im- 
measurably, the  visiters  who  had  preceded  them.  Although 
this  is  strictly  true  in  regard  to  our  painters,  it  will  not  yet  fully 
apply  to  the  professors  of  all  the  sister  arts.  We  are  happy 
to  record  foreign  artists  in  our  work,  and  acknowledge  their 
influence  on  the  progress  of  the  arts  ; but  while  England 
claims  our  artists  as  her  own,  because  thrown  on  her  shores, 
or  invited  by  her  liberality,  we  are  content  to  call  those  only 


14  Patronage . 

American,  exclusively,  who  were  born  or  educated  as  artists 
within  our  boundaries. 

It  is  matter  of  surprise  to  many,  that  the  land  of  our  fore- 
fathers should  have  been  behind  the  rest  of  the  civilized  world 
in  the  conveniences  and  decorations  which  attend  the  expan- 
sion of  mind  and  the  progress  of  science.  It  will  be  explained 
by  the  consideration,  that,  although  of  late  the  freest  and  best 
governed  country  in  Europe,  and  brilliant  with  art  and  science, 
it  was  the  seat  of  barbarism  with  episcopal  and  military  aris- 
tocracy to  a later  period  than  those  lands  which  have  since 
fallen  behind  her  in  the  march  towards  perfection.  While  the 
artist  was  honoured  on  the  continent,  he  was  in  the  island  of 
Great  Britain  considered  as  an  appendage  to  my  lord’s  tailor. 

The  curious  may  see  in  Walpole’s  Anecdotes  of  Painting  in 
England,  that  my  lord  of  Warwick  in  Henry  VI.’s  time  “con- 
tracted with  his  tailor  for  the  painter’s  work  that  was  to  be 
displayed”  on  his  clothing,  and  the  pageantry  thought  neces- 
sary, at  that  period,  when  going  abroad.  Walpole  says,  “ the 
art  was  engrossed  by,  and  confined  to,  the  vanity  or  devotion 
of  the  nobility.  The  arms  they  bore  and  quartered,  their  mis- 
sals, their  church  windows,  and  the  images  of  their  idols  were 
the  only  circumstances  in  which  they  had  any  employment  for 
a painter.”  The  more  esteemed  painters  were  called  limners, 
and  were  those  who  limned  or  illuminated  missals,  books  or 
manuscripts,  with  miniatures ; that  is,  small  pictures  done  in 
minium  or  red  lead,  from  which  the  word  now  appropriated 
principally  to  small  pictures  on  ivory,  is  derived.  Such  was 
the  state  of  painting  in  the  land  of  our  fathers- — when  Raphael 
flourished  in  Italy. 

It  will  hardly  be  credited  in  times  to  come — nay,  it  can 
hardly  be  credited  now — only  that  we  have  English  books  of 
high  authority  to  bear  us  out  in  the  assertion,  that  in  the 
eighteenth  century  the  fine  arts,  and  their  professors,  depend- 
ed in  that  country  upon  patrons  and  patronage  for  subsist- 
ence— that  the  descendants  of  the  military  robbers  who  con- 
quered the  land  ; or  the  minions,  mistresses,  or  spurious  off- 
spring of  their  kings,  revelling  in  the  hereditary  spoils  of  the 
people,  should  be  sought  and  acknowledged  as  the  necessary 
protectors  of  those  whose  knowledge  or  skill  is  now  the  boast 
of  England.  We  will  give  a few  extracts,  or  our  readers, 
who  are  not  conversant  with  the  subject,  may  not  believe  what 
appears  so  monstrous. 

A noble  author,  speaking  of  an  artist  who  died  so  late  as 
1756,  after  Benjamin  West  began  his  career  by  painting  por- 
traits in  this  country,  Walpole,  in  the  last  edition  of  his  work, 
published  in  the  nineteenth  century,  gives  this  character  of 


Vcrtue. 


15 


Vertue,  an  eminent  artist  and  exemplary  man.  Speaking 
of  his  modesty,  he  says,  “ the  highest  praise  he  ventured  to 
assume  is  founded  on  his  industry” — “ if  vanity  had  entered 
into  his  composition,  he  might  have  boasted  the  antiquity  of 
his  race.”  By  that  industry  which  was  never  intermitted,  he 
solaced  the  age  of  his  parents;  and,  at  his  father’s  death,  was 
the  support  of  his  widowed  mother  and  many  children.  When 
not  occupied  by  his  professional  labours,  he  practised  music, 
and  acquired  foreign  languages.  His  works  were  admired 
and  sought  after . “Many  persons,”  says  Walpole,  “ were  de- 
sirous of  having  a complete  collection.”  He  gratified  them  by 
making  up  sets,  which,  after  his  death,  sold  for  more  than 
double  the  price  he  received  for  them.  He  was  one  of  the  first 
members  of  the  first  Academy  of  Painting  known  in  his  coun- 
try. He  was  a learned  antiquary.  He  was  indefatigable 
in  his  researches  after  that  knowledge  which  enabled  him  to 
compose  his  great  work — “ the  History  of  the  Arts  in  Eng- 
land.” “ His  scrupulous  veracity”  is  eulogized  justly.  “His 
merit  and  modesty  still  raised  him  friends.”  “ He  lost  his 
friends,  (by  death,)  but  his  piety,  mildness,  and  ingenuity 
never  forsook  him.”  “He  died  July  24th,  1756,  and  was 
buried  in  the  cloisters  of  Westminster  Abbey,” 

“ With  manners  gentle,  and  a grateful  heart, 

And  all  the  genius  of  the  graphic  art, 

His  fame  shall  each  succeeding  artist  own, 

Longer  by  far  than  monuments  of  stone.” 

This  man  so  gifted,  so  pure,  whose  company  and  conversa- 
tion conferred  instruction  on  the  wise,  and  honour  on  the  dig- 
nified, is  spoken  of  in  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
by  Walpole,  who  acknowledged  his  virtues  and  admired  his 
talents,  in  terms,  when  his  name  is  connected  with  the  rich 
and  titled,  that  would  in  this  country,  at  this  time,  be  thought 
degrading  to  any — the  lowest  and  most  ignorant  member  of 
our  happy  republican  society.  The  earl  of  Oxford  saw  the 
merits  of  the  artist,  purchased  his  works,  and  gave  them  their 
due  praise.  This  is  called  the  “ bounty  of  the  patron.”  “ An- 
other  patron  was  the  earl  of  Winchelsea.”  How  did  he  pro- 
tect him,  and  from  whom  or  what?  The  artist  “ painted  and 
engraved”  his  picture.  He  gratified  the  earl’s  wishes,  per- 
haps his  vanity,  and  rescued  his  effigies  from  oblivion.  Thus 
the  artist  conferred  the  favour,  but  the  lord  is  called  and 
acknowledged  as  the  protector  of  the  man  whose  knowledge 
and  skill  he  sought,  for  his  own  gratification  and  improve- 
ment. “ Lord  Coleraine,”  says  Walpole,  “is  enumerated  by 
Vertue,  among  his  protectors.”  He  is  represented  as  travel- 
ling with  Lord  Oxford — as  making  the  journeys  he  took  with 


16 


Americans  disclaim  Patronage. 

him  and  others,  “ more  delightful,  by  explaining,  taking 
draughts,  and  keeping  a register  of  what  they  saw  ;”  and  then, 
drawing  up  “ an  account  of  this  progress  and  presenting  it  to 
his  patron”  He  is  represented  as  “ humble  before  his  supe- 
riors.” Who  were  they  ? The  men  who  possessed  castles  and 
palaces,  and  looked  to  him  for  an  explanation  of  the  treasures 
their  libraries,  cabinets,  and  galleries  contained.  The  earl  of 
Oxford  died.  He  and  the  artist  had  been  friends ; and  the 
artist,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  time,  felt  that  the  earl 
was  his  superior,  and  lamented  the  loss  as  if  he  had  been  left 
without  “support,  cherisher,”  or  “comfort.”  “He  was  a 
little  revived,”  says  Walpole,  “by  acquiring  the  honour  of 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk’s  notice .”  “ The  Duke  of  Richmond 
and  Lord  Burlington  did  not  forget  him  among  the  artists 
they  patronized”  But  in  1749  he  found  a yet  more  exalted 
protector.  “ The  prince  of  Wales  sent  for  him,  and  finding 
him  capable  of  the  task  of  explaining  to  his  ignorance,  the  his- 
tory of  those  treasures  of  art  his  hereditary  fortune  had  put  in 
his  possession ; and  of  pointing  out  the  mode  of  making  his 
collection  more  valuable” — What  followed  ? “ The  artist,” 

says  Walpole,  “ often  had  the  honour  of  attending  the  prince  ; 
was  shown  his  pictures  by  himself,  and  accompanied  him  to 
the  royal  palaces.”  And  he  had  the  further  honour  of  being 
“ employed”  by  his  protector,  “in  collecting  prints  for  him, 
and  taking  catalogues,  and  sold  him  many  of  his  own  minia- 
tures and  prints.” 

Such  was  the  manner  of  thinking  and  speaking  in  Great 
Britain  in  the  eighteenth  century.  There  are  individuals 
in  America  who,  without  due  reflection,  or,  from  residing  too 
long  in  England,  or,  perhaps,  being  foreigners,  and  not  under- 
standing the  nature  of  our  institutions,  and  the  manner  of 
thinking  which  those  institutions  induce,  sometimes  talk  of 
patronage  and  protection ; but  from  the  very  first  settlement 
of  this  country,  the  germs  of  republican  equality  were  planted 
in  our  soil ; they  grew  with  the  growth  of  the  colonies,  and 
were  nursed  into  maturity  by  the  blood  of  our  fathers.  The 
laws  are  here  the  only  protectors.  Industry,  virtue,  and 
talents,  the  only  patrons.  The  ignorant,  the  afflicted,  the 
weak,  the  unfortunate  may  want  aid,  instruction,  protection, 
from  the  strong,  and  the  rich,  and  the  wise;  but  the  artist — the 
man  who  possesses  the  genius,  skill,  and  knowledge  which  en- 
titles him  to  that  name- — will  look  to  be  honoured  and  esteem- 
ed by  his  fellow-citizens  ; not  seeking  protection,  from  them  ; 
or  acknowledging  superiority,  except  in  superior  worth. 

Happy  ! thrice  happy  country!  where  the  lord,  the  prince, 
or  the  king,  on  touching  your  shores,  becomes  a man,  if  he 


Pioneers . 


17 


possesses  the  requisites  tor  one : or,  it  not,  falls  below  the  level 
of  the  men  who  surround  him  where  the  man  of  virtue  and 
talents  is  the  only  acknowledged  superior,  and  where  the  man 
possessing  those  requisites  of  an  artist,  needs  no  protector  and 
acknowledges  no  patron.  The  artist  who  feels  the  necessity  of 
patronage,  must  do  one  of  two  things- — abandon  his  high  and 
responsible  character,  bow  to  the  golden  calf  that  he  may  par- 
take of  the  bread  and  wine  set  before  the  idol,  or  abandon  his 
profession — grasp  the  axe  and  the  plough,  instead  of  the 
crayon  and  pencil.  The  agriculturist,  the  mechanic,  the  sailor, 
the  cartman,  the  sawyer,  the  chimney-sweeper,  need  no  pro- 
tectors. When  they  are  wanted  they  are  sought  for — so  should 
it  be  with  the  artist ; at  least  let  him  be  as  independent  as  the 
last. 

The  artists  who  visited  the  colonies  found  friends  and  em- 
ployers ; they  did  not  need  protectors.  They  exchanged  the 
product  of  their  skill  and  labour  for  the  money  of  the  rich,  and 
received  kindness  and  hospitality  “ in  the  bargain.”  Our  first 
visiters  were  probably  all  from  Great  Britain;  and  none  staid 
long.  The  pilgrims  who  sought  refuge  from  oppression,  and 
the  other  pioneers  of  colonization,  had  their  thoughts  suffi- 
ciently employed  on  the  arts  of  necessity,  and  the  means  of 
subsistence  or  defence.  Their  followers  brought  wealth  and 
pictures,  and  imported  from  ho7iie  the  articles  of  luxury,  and 
the  materials  for  ornamental  architecture.  As  wealth  increased, 
art  and  artists  followed  ; and  as  the  effects  of  that  freedom 
which  the  colonists  enjoyed  was  felt,  native  artists  sprung  up, 
and  excelled  the  visiters  from  the  father  land. 

As  the  work  of  Vertue,  the  historian  of  the  arts  in  England, 
has  been  made  perfect  by  Walpole  and  Dalaway,  so  we  may 
hope  that  in  process  of  time,  this  work  will  have  additions 
made  to  it  by  those  who  may  discover  more  than  has  been 
yielded  to  our  researches.  We  have  rescued  many  facts  from 
oblivion  which  would  otherwise  have  been  lost,  and  perhaps 
opened  the  way  for  the  discovery  of  more.  Many  of  the  art- 
ists who  first  visited  the  colonies,  have  left  no  traces  that  we 
can  as  yet  discover.  We,  therefore,  begin  our  history  of  the 
arts  of  design  as  introduced  into  the  country  now  called  the 
United  States  of  America,  with  the  name  of  a man  who  chose 
for  his  place  of  residence  the  native  town  of  the  writer.  Pro- 
bably many  of  the  pioneers  who  led  the  way,  and  opened  a 
path  for  the  arts  in  our  country,  had  little  merit  as  artists, 
but  they  are  objects  of  curious  inquiry  to  us  of  the  present 
day  ; for  as  we  earnestly  desire  to  know  every  particular  rela- 
tive to  the  first  settlers  who  raised  the  standard  of  civilization 

3 


18 


Perth  Awiboy . 

in  the  wilderness ; so  the  same  rational  desire  is  felt,  espe- 
cially by  artists,  to  learn  who  were  their  predecessors  ; who 
raised  and  who  supported  the  standard  of  taste,  and  decorated 
the  social  column  with  its  Corinthian  capital. 

JOHN  WATSON— 1715, 

came  to  the  colonies  in  1715,  and  set  up  his  esel*  in  the 
capital  of  New-Jersey,  Perth  Amboy.  This  gentleman  was  a 
native  of  Scotland.  The  precise  place  of  his  birth  we  do  not 
know  ; the  year  in  which  he  was  born  is  found  by  the  date  of 
his  death  engraved  on  his  tombstone,  and  the  age  at  which  he 
died.  He  was  born  in  1685. 

The  commanding  and  beautiful  point  on  which  the  settlers 
and  proprietors  of  New-Jersey  fixed  for  the  site  of  their  capital, 
has  a fine  harbour,  sheltered  by  Staten  Island  on  one  side,  and 
the  hills  of  Monmouth  on  the  other,  and  receiving  the  waters 
of  the  Raritan  from  the  west,  and  those  of  the  Pesaic  and 
Hackensack  through  Arthurkull  Sound,  from  the  north.  In 
the  eyes  of  the  colonists  of  that  day,  it  was  viewed  as  the  seat 
designed  by  nature  for  the  great  commercial  metropolis  of 
the  middle  colonies.  Time  has  shown  how  baseless  were  their 
hopes.  Commerce  has  centered  at  the  meeting  of  a greater 
river,  with  a more  extensive  arm  of  the  sea  ; but  the  capital  of 
New-Jersey,  notwithstanding  the  vicinity  of  New-York,  was  in 
1715,  and  long  after,  a place  of  commercial  and  political  con- 
sequence ; it  will  ever  be  in  situation  and  capabilities  one  of 
the  pleasantest  and  most  healthy  places  on  the  sea-board. 

Mr.  Watson  fixed  upon  this  city  as  the  place  of  his  sojourn, 
purchased  land,  and  built  houses.  He  was  a Scotchman,  and 
by  profession  a portrait  painter.  He  lived  long  in  the  land  of 
his  choice,  and  died  in  extreme  old  age. 

The  writer  remembers  well  the  child’s  wonder  that  was 
caused  in  his  early  life,  by  the  appearance  of  the  house  this 
artist  once  owned,  (for  he  was  then  dead,)  and  the  tales  that 
were  told  of  the  limner  in  answer  to  the  questions  asked.  His 
dwelling-house  had  been  pulled  down  by  his  heir,  but  a smaller 
building  which  adjoined  it,  and  which  had  been  his  painting 
and  picture  house,  remained  and  attracted  admiration  by  the 


* The  Esel  is  a frame  on  which  the  artist  places  his  picture  when  he  paints. 
The  name  is  German,  and  has  been  adopted  by  the  English  painters  from  the 
Germans  and  Flemings,  who  introduced  the  art  into  England.  The  word  means 
a beast  of  burthen — an  ass — as  we  call  that  frame  a horse  on  which  boards  for 
scaffolding  are  placed.  The  painter’s  maul-stick  has  the  same  origin,  from  the 
German  malcn  ta  paint,  and  maler  a painter. 


John  Watson — 1715. 


19 


heads  of  sages,  heroes,  and  kings.  The  window-shutters 
were  divided  into  squares,  and  each  square 'presented  the  head 
of  a man  or  woman,  which,  if  memory  can  be  trusted  at  this 
distant  period,  after  an  interval  of  more  than  sixty  years,  re- 
presented personages  in  antique  costume,,  and  the  men  with 
beards  and  helmets,  or  crowns.  In  answer  to  the  questions 
elicited  by  this  display  of  art,  the  inquirer  was  told  that  the 
painter  had  been  considered  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  was 
handed  down  traditionally  as  a miser  and  an  usurer — words  of 
dire  portent — probably  meaning  that  he  was  a prudent,  per- 
haps a wise  man,  who  lived  without  ostentation  or  superfluous 
expense,  and  lent  the  excess  of  his  revenue  to  those  who  want- 
ed it,  and  who  could  give  security  for  principal  and  interest, 
instead  of  locking  it  up  as  a useless  idol  in  his  strong  box,  or 
risking  it  on  the  fluctuating  waves  of  commercial  enterprise. 
“ The  story  ran”  that  old  Mr,  Watson  painted  many  portraits 
and  lent  his  money  to  those  who  employed  him,  thus  procuring 
employment  from  those  who  could  secure  payment,  and,  ac- 
cording to  English  phraseology,  patronizing  his  patrons.  At 
all  events,  like  Jacob’s  flocks  and  Shylock’s  ducats,  his  riches 
had  increase. 

“ This  was  a way  to  thrive,  an'd  ho  was  blest, 

And  thrift  is  blessing,  if  men  steal  it  not.” 

Mr.  Watson  never  was  married,  and  having  no  children  he 
prevailed  upon  several  relatives,  notwithstanding  that  attach- 
ment to  their  soil  which  distinguishes  his  countrymen,  to  leave 
Scotland,  and  settle  in  Perth  Amboy,  made  dear  to  them  by 
one  of  its  names,  and  the  report  of  the  painter’s  riches.  He 
had  a nephew  who  was  a midshipman  in  the  British  navy,  but 
even  that  comparatively  eligible  home  was  abandoned,  on  pro- 
mise of  inheriting  his  uncle’s  wealth.  Mr.  Alexander  Watson, 
the  son  of  the  painter’s  brother,  accordingly  became  a resident 
with  his  uncle,  superintended  his  business  when  he  became  too 
infirm  to  paint  or  even  to  examine  bonds  and  mortgages,  and 
shared  his  frugal  fare  with  the  cheering  hope  of  a blessed 
change  when  the  old  man  should  “ shuffle  off  this  mortal  coil.” 

But  “ hope  deferred  maketh  the  heart  sick.”  The  painter 
became  blind,  and  deaf,  and  bed-rid,  but  still  he  lived.  In  this 
condition  the  old  man  remained  several  years.  The  nephew, 
anticipating  the  hour  in  which  he  was  to  become  lord  of  mo- 
ney and  houses,  and  lands,  used  to  speak  of  this  as  that  which 
must  soon  come  “ in  the  course  of  nature,  you  know,”  but  in 
the  meanwhile  had  no  power  over  the  revenue.  During  this 
period,  which  is  called  proverbially  the  time  of  “ waiting  for 


20 


John  Watson. 


dead-men’s  shoes,”  the  house  wanted  repairing  ; but  the  bed- 
rid man  turned  his.  deafest  ear  to  any  proposal  involving  thp 
expenditure  of  money,  for  that  or  any  other  purpose.  The 
hand  grasped  the  world’s  idol  with  the  greater  intenseness  as 
the  hour  approached  on  which  its  hold  must  be  relaxed  forever. 
The  nephew,  trusting  to  the  uncle’s  incapability  of  moving  or 
hearing,  and  finding  tradesmen  willing  to  trust  to  the  kind 
course  of  nature,  determined  to  prevent  the  decay  of  the 
property  he  felt  an  heir’s  affection  for,  and  concluded  his  bar- 
gain with  the  carpenters  for  a new  roof,  to  be  paid  for  “ in  the 
course  of  nature,  you  know.”  Accordingly  the  house  was 
unroofed,  and  re-roofed,  while  the  owner  was  living  in  it,  per- 
fectly unconscious  of  the  important  operation  which  was  in 
progress  over  bis  head.  The  strokes  of  hammers,  however, 
occasionally  reached  his  ear,  and  penetrated  through  the  ob- 
stacles interposed  by  art  and  nature,  and  the  heir  was  startled 
by  the  question,  “ What  is  the  meaning  of  that  pecking  and 
knocking  that  I hear  every  day  ?”  The -nephew  taken  by  sur- 
prise, answered,  “•  pecking!— -pecking  ? — oh,  ay! — it’s  the 
woodpeckers— they  are  in  amazing  quantities  this  year— leave 
the  trees,  and  attack  the  roofs  of  the  houses.  There  is  no 
driving  them  off.”  The  roof  was  finished,  and  the  saucy  birds 
ceased  pecking. 

“In  the  course  of  nature”  the  old  man  at  length  died,  but 
not  until  between  eighty  and  ninety  years  of  age.  After  his 
first  visit  to  America,  in  1715,  the  painter  had  returned  to  Eu- 
rope, and  had  brought  from  thence  to  his  adopted  country, 
many  pictures,  which,  with  those  of  his  own  composition, 
formed  no  inconsiderable  collection  in  point  of  number;  of 
their  value  we  are  ignorant.  It  is,  however,  a curious  fact, 
that  the  first  painter,  and  the  first  collection  of  paintings  of 
which  we  have  any  knowledge,  were  planted  at  the  place  of 
the  writer’s  nativity — Perth  Amboy. 

We  have  been  told  that  many  of  Mr.  Watson’s  pictures 
were  portraits,  real  or  imaginary,  of  the  kings  of  England  and 
Scotland  ; and  this  agrees  with  the  awe-inspiring,  inveterate 
heroes  we  remember  to  have  seen  on  his  window-shutters. 
The  painter’s  heir  very  naturally  took  part  with  the  loyal  ad- 
herents of  his  former  master,  and  fled  from  the  storm  which 
gathered  in  New-Jersey  threatening  the  invader,  who  came  with 
fire  and  sword  to  keep  the  “king’s  peace,”  in  1776.  The 
rebels,  a motley  mass  of  half-armed  militia,  under  General 
Mercer,  (soon  after  killed  at  the  battle  of  Princeton,)  made  a 
show  of  opposition  to  the  regulars  of  Britain,  who  were  divid- 
ed from  them  by  the  waters  of  Arthurkull  Sound.  Of  course 


21 


John  Smybert — 1728. 

the  deserted  house  and  collection  of  paintings  were  left  at  the 
mercy  of  the  undisciplined  yeomanry,  and  this  first  cabinet  of 
the  fine  arts  was  broken  up,  and  the  treasures  dispersed  by 
those  who  probably  took  delight  in  executing  summary  justice 
on  the  effigies  of  the  Nimrods  of  the  father-land. 

An  excavation,  the  remains  of  a cellar,  marks  the  site  of 
Watson’s  house,  and  proves  that  his  taste  for  the  picturesque 
was  not  despicable.  On  an  elevation  which  gradually  sloped 
to  the  verge  of  the  bank,  the  painter  had  seated  himself ; the 
beautiful  point  of  Staten  Island  in  front,  over  which  he  looked 
to  the  sea  and  to  the  highlands  of  Navesink,  so  dear  to  the 
mariner ; to  the  right  the  spacious  bay  is  bounded  by  the  un- 
dulating hills  of  Monmouth,  and  the  rich  lowlands  of  Middle- 
town.  Such  in  life  was  the  artist’s  situation — his  remains  lie 
in  the  cemetery  of  the  venerable  brick  episcopal  church,  a little 
south  of  his  chosen  residence. 

His  grave  is  near  the  south-east  corner  of  the  church-yard, 
and  has  a tombstone  with  the  following  inscription  : 

“ Here  lies  interred  the  body  of  Mr.  John  Watson,  who  de- 
parted this  life  August  22d,  1768,  aged  83  years.” 

None  of  the  pictures  brought  into  this  country  or  painted 
by  him  can  now  be  found;  yet  that  he  had  and  continues  to  have 
an  influence  on  the  progress  of  the  arts  in  the  United  States, 
will  not  be  doubted  by  any  who  have  duly  considered  the  sub- 
ject of  cause  and  effect.  It  perhaps  would  not  be  too  much 
to  attribute  the  writing  of  this  book  to  the  emigration  of  Mr. 
John  Watson ; it  is  to  be  seen  whether  our  efforts  will  forward 
the  progress  of  the  arts  it  treats  of. 

Of  the  next  painter  who  visited  America,  we  have  many 
interesting  particulars. 


C HAPTER  IT 


John  Smybert—  Dean  Berkeley— Nathaniel  Smybert— Blackburn— Williams— R 

Peke — Theus. 


JOHN  SMYBERT— 1728, 

(For  so  he  has  spelled  his  name  on  the  picture  of  Dean  Berke- 
ley and  family,  now7  at  Yale  College,)  had  a powerful  and  last- 
ing effect  on  the  arts  of  design  in  this  country.  We  see  the 
influence  of  Smybert  and  his  works  upon  Copley,  Trumbull, 


22 


Dean  Berkeley. 

and  Allston.  Copley  was  a youth  of  thirteen  years  of  age  at 
the  time  of  Smybert’s  death,  and  probably  had  instructions  from 
him — certainly  from  his  pictures.  Trumbull,  having  retired 
from  the  army  in  the  winter  of  1776  or  spring  of  1777,  be- 
cause his  commission  as  deputy-adjutant-general,  was  dated  in 
September,  instead  (as  he  thought  it  ought  to  be)  in  June,  re- 
sumed his  study  of  painting  in  Boston  in  1777,  amidst  the 
works  of  Copley,  and  in  the  room  “ which  had  been  built  by 
Smybert,  in  which  remained  many  of  his  works.”  And  All- 
ston says,  in  a letter  to  a friend,  after  speaking  of  the  pictures 
of  Pine,  “ But  I had  a higher  master  in  the  head  of  Cardinal 
Bentevoglio,  from  Vandyke,  in  the  College  library,  (Cam* 
bridge,)  which  I obtained  permission  to  copy,  one  winter  va- 
cation. This  copy  from  Vandyke  was  by  Smybert,  an  Eng- 
lish painter,  who  came  to  this  country  with  Dean,  afterwards 
Bishop  Berkeley.  At  that  time  it  seemed  to  me  perfection,  but 
when  I saw  the  original,  some  years  afterwards,  I had  to  alter 
my  notions  of  perfection ; howrever,  I am  grateful  to  Smybert 
for  the  instruction  he  gave  me — his  work  rather.” 

It  is  thus  that  science,  literature  and  art  is  propagated  ; and 
it  is  thus  that  we  owe,  perhaps,  the  colouring  of  Allston  to  the 
faint  reflection  of  Vandyke  in  Smybert.  West,  as  we  shall 
see,  was  out  of  the  sphere  of  Smybert’s  influence. 

We  owe  the  introduction  of  Smybert  to  one  of  the  best  of 
men — Dean  Berkeley.  Gratitude  requires  that  we  should  not 
in  this  work  pass  by  his  name  with  slight  notice,  and  we  can- 
not better  pay  the  debt  than  by  quotations  from  the  “ historical 
discourse”  of  our  distinguished  fellow-citizen,  Gulian  C.  Ver- 
planck : — 

“ With  all  this  metaphysical  subtility,  Berkeley  was  equally 
distinguished  for  the  depth  and  variety  of  his  knowledge,  the 
exuberance  and  gracefulness  of  his  imagination,  the  elegance 
of  his  conversation  and  manners,  and  the  purity  of  his  life.  It 
was  about  the  fortieth  year  of  his  age,  that,  wearied  out  by 
these  fruitless  speculations,  in  which  the  most  vigorous  mind 
“ can  find  no  end,  in  wandering  mazes  lost,”  he  conceived  the 
project  of  founding  a University  in  the  island  of  Bermuda  on 
so  liberal  a scale  as  to  afford  the  amplest  means  of  diffusing 
scientific  and  religious  instruction  over  the  whole  of  the  British 
possessions  in  America.  Dr.  Berkeley,  at  that  time,  held  the 
richest  church  preferment  in  Ireland,  and  had  the  fairest  pros- 
pects of  advancement  to  the  first  literary  and  ecclesiastical  dig- 
nities of  that  country,  or  even  of  England.  All  these,  with  a 
disinterestedness  which  excited  the  astonishment  and  sneers  of 
Swift  and  his  literary  friends,  he  proposed  to  resign  for  a bare 


23 


Dean  Berkeley. 

maintenance  as  principal  of  the  projected  American  University. 
His  personal  character  and  influence,  and  the  warmth  of  his 
benevolent  eloquence,  soon  subdued  or  silenced  open  opposi- 
tion. He  obtained  a charter  from  the  crown,  and  the  grant 
of  a large  sum  of  money,  to  be  raised  from  the  sale  of  certain 
lands  in  the  island  of  St.  Christopher,  which  had  been  ceded 
by  the  treaty  of  Utrecht  to  the  British  government,  but  had 
afterwards  been  totally  forgotten  or  neglected,  and  of  the  real 
value  of  which  he  had  with  great  industry  acquired  an  accu- 
rate knowledge. 

“ To  describe  Berkeley’s  confident  anticipations  of  the 
future  glories  of  America,  we  must  have  recourse  to  his  own 
words. 

The  Muse,  disgusted  at  an  age  and  clime 
Barren  of  every  glorious  theme, 

In  distant  lands  now  waits  a better  time, 

Producing  subjects  worthy  fame. 

In  happy  climes  where  from  the  genial  sun 
And  virgin  earth  such  scenes  ensue, 

The  force  of  art  by  nature  seems  outdone, 

And  fancied  beauties  by  the  true  : 

In  happy  climes,  the  seat  of  innocence, 

Where  nature  guides  and  virtue  rules  ; 

Where  men  shall  not  impose  for  truth  and  sense 
The  pedantry  of  courts  and  schools  : 

There  shall  be  sung  another  golden  age, 

The  rise  of  empires  and  of  arts, 

The  good  and  great,  inspiring  epic  rage, 

The  wisest  heads  and  noblest  hearts. 

Not  such  as  Europe  breeds  in  her  decay, 

Such  as  she  bred  when  fresh  and  young, 

When  heavenly  flame  did  animate  her  clay, 

By  future  poets  shall  be  sung. 


Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way  ; 

The  four  first  acts  already  past, 

A fifth  shall  close  the  drama  with  the  day — 

Time’s  noblest  offspring  is  the  last. 

“ I have  quoted  these  fine  lines  at  length  because  I do  not 
recollect  to  have  seen  or  heard  them  referred  to  in  this  country. 
They  were  written  fifty  years  before  the  declaration  of  inde- 
pendence ; and  to  the  patriot  who  may  now  exult  with  un- 
doubting hope,  in  the  great  and  sure  destinies  of  our  nation, 
they  may  well  seem  to  revive  the  old  connexion  between  the 
prophetic  character  and  that  of  the  poet : 


24 


Dean  Berkeley . 

For,  in  a Roman  mouth,  the  graceful  name 
Of  poet  and  of  prophet  were  the  same.* 

“ Confiding  in  these  glorious  auguries,  and  animated  by  the 
pure  ambition  of  contributing  to  hasten  forward  this  “ rise  of 
empire  and  of  arts,”  he  sailed  from  England  in  1728.  He 
came  first  to  Rhode-Island,  where  he  determined  to  remain  for 
a short  time,  for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  lands  on  this  con- 
tinent as  estates  for  the  support  of  his  college,  as  well  as  in 
order  to  gain  a more  intimate  knowledge  of  the  northern  colo- 
nies. Here  he  soon  became  convinced  that  he  had  erred  alto- 
gether in  his  choice  of  Bermuda  ; and  he  applied  for  all  alter- 
ation of  his  charter,  empowering  him  to  select  some  place  on 
the  American  continent  for  the  site  of  the  University,  which 
would,  probably,  have  been  fixed  in  the  city  of  New-York  or  in 
its  vicinity.']'  But  in  the  succeeding  year  all  his  sanguine 
hopes  were  at  once  extinguished  by  an  unexpected  court  in- 
trigue ; and  a large  sum,  (90,000/.  sterling  in  all,)  that  had 
been  paid  into  the  treasury  from  the  funds  pointed  out  by 
Berkeley,  and  part  of  which  had  been  solemnly  appropriated 
to  the  projected  institution,  by  a vote  of  parliament,  was  seized 
by  Sir  Robert  Walpole  to  pay  the  marriage  portion  of  the 
Princess  Royal;  an  additional  proof,  if  proof  were  needed,  of 
the'truth  of  the  old  republican  adage,  that  the  very  trappings 
of  a monarchy  are  sufficient  to  support  a moderate  common- 
wealth. 

“The  two  years  and  a half  of  Berkeley’s  residence  in  Rhode- 
Island,  had  not  been  idly  spent.  It  was  there  that  he  composed 
his  Minute  Philosopher,  a work  written  on  the  model  of  the 
Philosophical  Dialogues  of  his  favourite,  Plato,  and,  like  them, 
to  be  admired  for  the  graces  which  a rich  imagination  has 
carelessly  and  profusely  scattered  over  its  pages,  as  well  as  for 
novelty  of  thought  and  ingenuity  of  argument.  The  rural 
descriptions  which  frequently  occur  in  it,  are,  it  is  said,  exqui- 
site pictures  of  some  of  those  delightful  landscapes  which  pre- 
sented themselves  to  his  eye  at  the  time  he  was  writing. 

“ Berkeley  returned  to  Europe,  mortified  and  disappointed  ; 
but  as  there  was  nothing  selfish  or  peevish  in  his  nature,  the 
failure  of  this  long  cherished  and  darling  project  could  not 
abate  the  ardour  of  his  philanthropy. 


* Cowper. 

t This  is  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Chandler,  Life  of  President  Johnson.  Others 
have  said  that  it  would  have  been  transferred  to  Rhode-Island. 


Dean  Berkeley . 


25 


“ Tlie  rest  of  his  history  belongs  more  to  Ireland  than  to 
America.  Never  had  that  ill-governed  and  injured  country  a 
purer  or  more  devoted  patriot.  His  Querist,  his  Letters  to 
the  Roman  Catholic  clergy,  and  his  other  tracts  on  Irish  poli- 
tics, are  full  of  practical  good  sense,  unbounded  charity,  and 
the  warmest  affection  for  his  country. 

“ Such  was  the  strong  and  general  sense  of  the  usefulness  of 
these  labours,  that,  in  1 749,  the  body  of  the  Irish  Roman  Ca- 
tholic clergy,  in  a formal  address  to  Dr.  Berkeley,  who  was 
then  Protestant  Bishop  of  Cloyne,  returned  him  “ their  sincere 
•and  hearty  thanks,”  for  certain  of  these  publications,  assuring 
him  that  “they  were  determined  to  comply  with  his  advice  in 
all  particulars  they  add,  “ that  every  page  contains  a proof 
of  the  author’s  extensive  charity,  his  views  are  only  towards 
the  public  good,  and  his  manner  of  treating  persons,  in  their 
circumstances,  so  very  uncommon,  that  it  plainly  shows  the 
good  man,  the  polite  gentleman,  and  the  true  patriot.” 

He  died  at  Oxford,  in  1763,  in  his  seventy-third  year.  His 
epitaph  in  the  cathedral  church  of  that  city,  deserves  to  be 
cited  for  the  dignified  and  concise  elegance  with  which  it  re- 
cords his  praise. 

On  a stone,  over  his  grave,  is  the  often  quoted  line  of  Pope, 

“To  Berkeley  every  virtue  under  heaven 

and  above  it,  after  his  name  and  titles, 

Viro 

Seu  ingenii  et  eruditionis  laudem 
Seu  probilatis  et  beneficentiae  spectemus, 

Inter  primus  omnium  aetatum  numerando. 

Si  Christianus  fueris 
Si  amans  patriae 
Utroque  nomine  gaudere  potes 
Berkeleium  vixisse. 

Swift,  in  a letter  to  Lord  Carteret,  says — 

“ There  is  a gentleman  of  this  kingdom  just  gone  for  Eng- 
land ; it  is  Dr.  George  Berkeley,  Dean  of  Derry,  the  best 
preferment  among  us,  being  worth  eleven  hundred  pounds  a 
year.  And  because  I believe  you  will  choose  out  some  very 
idle  minutes  to  read  this  letter,  perhaps  you  may  not  be  ill  en- 
tertained with  some  account  of  the  man  and  his  errand.  He 
was  a fellow  of  the  university  here,  and  going  to  England  very 
young,  about  thirteen  years  ago,  he  became  the  founder  of  a 
sect  there,  called  the  Immaterial ists , by  the  force  of  a very  cu- 
rious book  upon  that  subject.  Dr.  Smallridge  and  many 
other  eminent  persons  were  his  proselytes.  I sent  him  secre- 

4 


26 


Dean  Berkeley. 

tary  and  chaplain  to  Sicily,  with  my  Lord  Peterborough  ; and 
upon  his  lordship’s  return,  Dr.  Berkeley  spent  above  seven 
years  in  travelling  over  most  parts  of  Europe,  but  chiefly 
through  every  corner  of  Italy,  Sicily,  and  other  islands.  When 
he  came  back  to  Ireland,  he  found  so  many  friends  that  he 
was  effectually  recommended  to  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  by  whom 
he  was  made  Dean  of  Derry.  Your  excellency  will  be  fright- 
ened when  I tell  you  all  this  is  but  an  introduction  ; for  I am 
now  to  mention  his  errand.  He  is  an  absolute  philosopher 
with  regard  to  money,  titles,  and  power ; and,  for  three  years 
past,  has  been  struck  with  a notion  of  founding  a university  at 
Bermudas,  by  a charter  from  the  crown.  He  has  seduced 
several  of  the  hopefullest  young  clergymen  and  others  here, 
many  of  them  well  provided  for,  and  all  of  them  in  the  finest 
w7ay  of  preferment ; but  in  England  his  conquests  are  greater, 
and  I doubt  will  spread  very  far  this  winter.  He  showed  me  a 
small  trapt  which  he  designs  to  publish  ; and  there  your  excel- 
lency will  see  his  whole  scheme  of  a life  academico-philosophi- 
cal  (I  shall  make  you  remember  what  you  were)  of  a college 
founded  for  Indian  scholars  and  missionaries  ; wherein  he  most 
exorbitantly  proposes  a whole  hundred  pounds  a year  for  him- 
self, forty  pounds  for  a fellow,  and  ten  for  a student.  His 
heart  will  break  if  his  deanery  be  not  taken  from  him  and  left 
to  your  excellency’s  disposal.  I discouraged  him  by  the  cold- 
ness of  courts  and  ministers,  who  will  interpret  all  this  as  im- 
possible, and  a vision  ; but  nothing  will  do.  And,  therefore, 
I humbly  entreat  your  excellency  either  to  use  such  persuasions 
as  will  keep  one  of  the  first  men  in  this  kingdom,  for  virtue 
and  learning,  quiet  at  home;  or  to  assist  him  by  your  credit  to 
compass  his  romantic  design  ; which,  however,  is  very  noble 
and  generous,  and  proper  for  a great  person  of  your  excellent 
education  to  encourage.” 

And  Dr.  Blackwall  thus  speaks  of  the  wonderful  variety 
and  extent  of  Berkeley’s  knowledge: 

“ I would  with  pleasure  do  justice  to  the  memory  of  a very 
great,  though  singular  sort  of  man,  Dr.  Berkeley,  better 
known  as  a philosopher  and  intended  founder  of  a university 
in  the  Bermudas  than  as  Bishop  of  Cloyne,  in  Ireland.  An 
inclination  to  carry  me  out  on  that  expedition  as  one  of  the 
young  professors,  on  his  new  foundation,  having  brought  us 
often  together,  I scarce  remember  to  have  conversed  with  him 
on  that  art,  liberal  or  mechanic,  of  which  he  knew  not  more 
than  ordinary  practitioners.  He  travelled  through  a great 
part  of  Sicily  on  foot,  clambered  over  the  mountains,  and 
crept  into  the  caverns  to  investigate  its  natural  history  and 


27 


John  Smybert. 

discover  the  causes  of  its  volcanoes  ; and  I have  known  him 
sit  for  hours  in  forgeries  and  founderies,  to  inspect  their  suc- 
cessive operations.  I enter  not  into  his  peculiarities,  either 
religious  or  personal,  but  admire  the  extensive  genius  of  the 
man,  and  think  it  a loss  to  the  western  world,  that  his  noble 
and  exalted  plan  of  an  American  university  was  not  carried 
into  execution.” 

The  reader  will  not  think  that  too  many  pages  devoted  to 
the  arts  have  been  appropriated  to  a man  so  singular,  and  to 
whom  America  owes  so  much,  both  in  her  arts  and  her  litera- 
ture ; for  Berkeley,  in  his  benevolent  project  for  spreading 
knowledge  in  America,  did  not  neglect  the  important  agency 
of  the  arts  of  design,  and  having  experience  of  the  character 
and  talents  of  Smybert,  who  had  been  his  fellow-traveller  in 
Italy,  chose  him  as  the  professor  of  drawing,  painting,  and 
architecture  for  his  intended  institution. 

“ Smybert,”  as  Mr.  Verplanck justly  observes,  “was  not  an 
artist  of  the  first  rank,  for  the  arts  were  then  at  a very  low  ebb 
in  England;  but  the  best  portraits  which  we  have  of  the  emi- 
nent magistrates  and  divines  of  New-England  and  New-York, 
who  lived  between  1725  and  1751,  are  from  his  pencil. 

“ Horace  Walpole,  in  his  4 Anecdotes  of  Painting,  in  Eng- 
land,’ gives  some  account  of  him.  Walpole  was  a man  of 
fashion  and  pleasure,  of  wit  and  taste,  and  withal  a most  ex- 
pert hunter  of  antiquarian  small  game ; but  he  had  no  heart 
for  any  thing  generous  or  great,  and  he  speaks  of  Berkeley’s 
plans  as  might  be  expected  from  such  a man ; though  he  may 
be  pardoned,  for  slurring  over,  as  he  does,  his  own  father’s 
conduct  in  the  business. 

“‘John  Smybert,  of  Edinburgh,  was  born  about  1684,  and 
served  his  time  with  a common  house  painter  ; but  eager  to 
handle  a pencil  in  a more  elevated  style,  he  came  to  London, 
where,  however,  for  subsistence,  he  was  forced  to  content  him- 
self, at  first,  with  working  for  coach-painters.  It  was  a little 
rise  to  be  employed  in  copying  for  dealers,  and  from  thence  he 
obtained  admittance  into  the  academy.  His  efforts  and  ardor 
at  last  carried  him  to  Italy,  where  he  spent  three  years  in  copy- 
ing Raphael,  Titian,  Vandyck,  and  Reubens,  and  improved 
enough  to  meet  with  much  business  at  his  return.  When  his 
industry  and  abilities  had  thus  surmounted  the  asperities  of 
his  fortune,  he  was  tempted,  against  the  persuasions  of  his 
friends,  to  embark  in  the  uncertain,  but  amusing,  scheme  of 
the  famous  Dean  Berkeley,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Cloyne, 
whose  benevolent  heart  was  then  warmly  set  on  the  erection  of 
a universal  college  of  science  and  arts,  for  the  instruction  of 


28 


John  Smybert. 


heathen  children  in  Christian  duties  and  civil  knowledge. 
Smybert,  a silent,  modest  man,  who  abhorred  the  finesse  of 
some  of  his  profession,  was  enchanted  with  a plan  that,  he 
thought,  promised  him  tranquillity  and  honest  subsistence  in  a 
healthful  elysian  climate,  and  in  spite  of  remonstrances,  en- 
gaged with  the  Dean,  whose  zeal  had  ranged  the  favour  of  the 
court  on  his  side.  The  king's  death  dispelled  the  vision. 
Smybert,  however,  who  had  set  sail,  found  it  convenient,  or 
had  resolution  enough,  to  proceed,  but  settled  at  Boston,  in 
New-England,  where  he  succeeded  to  his  wish,  and  married  a 
woman  with  considerable  fortune,  whom  he  left  a widow  with 
two  children,  in  1751.’ 

“ Walpole  adds,  ‘ We  may  conceive  how  a man,  so  devoted 
to  his  art,  must  have  been  animated,  when  the  Dean’s  enthusi- 
asm and  eloquence  painted  to  his  imagination  a new  theatre  of 
prospects,  rich,  warm,  and  glowing  with  scenery  which  no 
pencil  had  yet  made  cheap  and  common  by  a sameness  of 
thinking  and  imagination.  As  our  disputes  and  politics  have 
travelled  to  America,  is  it  not  probable  that  poetry  and  paint- 
ing, too,  will  revive  amidst  those  extensive  tracts  as  they  in- 
crease in  opulence  and  empire,  and  w here  the  stores  of  nature 
are  so  various,  so  magnificent,  and  so  new  ?”  This  was  writ- 
ten in  1762.’ 

There  is  at  Yale  College  a large  picture,  and,  from  its  sub- 
ject, an  interesting  one,  representing  Berkeley  and  some  of  his 
family,  together  w ith  the  artist  himself,  on  their  first  landing  in 
America.  I presume  that  it  is  the  first  picture  of  more  than 
a single  figure  ever  painted  in  the  United  States.” 

We  find  the  following  passage  in  a letter  from  Ramsay,  the 
author  of  the  “ Gentle  Shepherd,”  to  Smybert,  dated  1736. 

“ My  son  Allan  has  been  pursuing  his  science  since  he  was 
a dozen  years  auld ; was  w ith  Mr.  HifFdig  in  London  for  some 
time,  about  two  years  ago  ; he  has  since  been  painting  here 
like  a Raphael;  sets  out  for  the  seat  of  the  beast  beyond  the 
Alps  within  a month  hence,  to  be  aw7ay  tw7o  years.  I’m  sweer 
to  part  with  him,  but  canna  stem  the  current  which  flows  from 
the  advice  of  his  patrons,  and  his  own  inclination.” 

Even  this  scrap  has  become  interesting.  But  the  following 
letter  from  Professor  Goodrich,  of  Yale  College,  with  the  ex- 
tract from  President  Styles,  are  incomparably  more  so. 


Yale  College,  April  20,  1834. 

Sir-— I embrace  the  earliest  opportunity  in  my  power  to  an- 
swer your  inquiries  respecting  Smybert’s  painting  of  Bishop 


Picture  of  the  Berkeley  f amily.  29 

Berkeley  and  family,  which  forms  a part  of  the  gallery  belong- 
ing to  this  college. 

This  institution  had  a peculiar  interest  in  possessing  some 
memorial  of  that  distinguished  man,  because  he  was  among 
our  early  benefactors.  He  came  to  this  country  in  the  year 
1728,  to  carry  into  effect  a project  which  he  had  long  enter- 
tained, of  founding  a college  in  Bermuda,  “ for  converting 
the  savage  Americans  to  Christianity.”  A large  grant  was 
promised  him  for  this  purpose,  by  the  British  government ; and 
while  waiting  for  its  arrival,  he  resided,  about  two  years,  at  New- 
port, R.  I.  where  he  had  purchased  a farm.  Here  the  paint- 
ing in  question  was  executed  by  Smybert,  who  had  attended 
Bishop  Berkeley  to  this  country  as  a member  of  his  family, 
which  likewise  embraced  a young  lady  of  the  name  of  Hand- 
cock,  and  two  gentlemen  of  fortune,  Mr.  James  and  Mr.  Dal- 
ton. Being  disappointed  in  receiving  the  money  promised  by 
the  government,  he  abandoned  the  project,  but  before  his  re- 
turn to  England,  being  made  acquainted  with  the  condition 
and  wants  of  this  college,  he  presented  it  with  some  valuable 
books,  to  which  he  added  after  his  return,  a donation  of  a 
thousand  volumes,  “ the  finest  collection  of  books,”  President 
Clapp  says,  in  his  History,  “ that  ever  came  together  at  one 
time  to  America.”  He  sent  also  a deed  of  his  farm  onRhode- 
Island,  which  he  directed  to  be  held  in  trust  for  “ the  mainte- 
nance, during  the  time  betw  een  their  first  and  second  degree,” 
of  three  students  of  the  college,  who  should  be  found  on  exa- 
mination to  be  most  distinguished  for  their  attainments  in  the 
Latin  and  Greek  languages  ; and  in  default  of  applicants  at 
any  time,  to  the  purchase  of  Latin  or  Greek  books,  as  premi- 
ums for  Latin  compositions  in  the  several  classes.  This  farm 
now  produces  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a year,  and 
the  proceeds  are  regularly  applied  to  the  objects  designated  by 
the  donor. 

About  the  year  1800,  the  late  President  Dwight,  being  on 
a tour  to  the  south-eastern  part  of  Massachusetts,  met  with 
Smybert’s  picture  of  the  Berkeley  family — in  what  place  I 
cannot  exactly  learn.  It  was  but  little  prized,  however,  by 
its  possessor  ; and  had  been  thrust  aside  and  neglected  until  it 
had  suffered  considerable  injury,  though  not  in  any  important 
part.  I have  never  heard  how  a painting  of  so  much  value 
came  into  such  a situation.  Dr.  Dwight  w7as  naturally  de- 
sirous to  obtain  it  for  the  college  ; and  through  the  interven- 
tion of  Dr.  Waterhouse,  of  Cambridge,  succeeded  in  his  ob- 
ject. It  is  to  this  gentleman  chiefly  that  we  are  indebted  for 
our  know  ledge  of  the  details  of  ,this  picture.  It  is  nine  feet 


30 


John  Smybert. 

long,  and  six  wide,  and  represents  Bishop  Berkeley  as  stand- 
ing at  one  end  of  a table,  which  is  surrounded  by  the  other 
members  of  his  family.  He  appears  to  be  in  deep  thought, 
his  eyes  slightly  raised  ; one  hand  resting  on  a folio  volume 
(a  copy  of  Plato,  his  favourite  author)  which  stands  on  the 
table  before  him  ; and  is  engaged  in  dictating  to  his  Amanu- 
ensis (who  is  seated  at  the  other  end  of  the  table)  part  of  the 
Minute  Philosopher,  which  is  said  to  have  been  commenced 
during  his  residence  at  Newport.  The  figure  of  the  Amanu- 
ensis, which  is  an  uncommonly  fine  one,  represents  Sir  James 
Dalton.  Miss  Handcock,  and  Mrs.  Berkeley,  with  an  infant 
in  her  arms,  are  seated  on  one  side  the  table,  whose  two  ends 
are  occupied  in  the  manner  just  described,  while  Mr.  James*, 
and  a gentleman  of  Newport,  named  John  Moffat,  stand  be- 
hind the  ladies.  The  painter  has  placed  himself  in  the  rear, 
standing  by  a pillar,  with  a scroll  in  his  hand  ; and  beyond  hinu 
opens  a very  beautiful  water  scene,  with  woods  and  headlands, 
the  original  of  which  probably  once  existed  on  the  shores  of 
the  Narragansett  bay.  Dr.  Dwight  used  to  state  though  I 
know  not  his  authority,  that  the  sketch  of  this  picture  was  ori- 
ginally made  at  sea ; and  was  enlarged  and  finished  at  a sub- 
sequent period  after  his  residence  at  Newport.  The  Mr.  Moffat 
mentioned  above,  is  said,  by  Dr.  Waterhouse,  to  have  been  a 
dealer  in  paints,  a Scotchman,  brother  to  Dr.  Thomas  Moffat, 
who  was  well  known  at  Newport,  and  afterwards  at  New- 
London. 

Of  Smybert  I know  nothing.  Dr.  Waterhouse  mentions 
that  he  married  a daughter  of  Dr.  Williams,  who  was  the 
Latin  schoolmaster  of  the  town  of  Boston  for  fifty  years. 

I enclose  an  extract  from  a sermon  of  President  Stiles,  re- 
specting Smybert. 

The  name  on  the  painting  is  spelled  with  a y. 

I am,  sir,  with  much  respect,  yours,  &c. 

C.  A.  Goodrich. 

“ Mr.  Smybert,  the  portrait  painter,  who  in  1728  accom- 
panied Dr.Berkeley,then  Dean  of  Derry,  and  afterwardsBishop 
of  Cloyne,  from  Italy  to  America,  was  employed,  while  at  Flo- 
rence, by  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  to  paint  two  or  three 
Siberian  Tartars,  presented  to  the  duke  by  the  Czar  of  Russia. 
This  Mr.  Smybert,  upon  his  landing  with  Dr.  Berkeley  at 
Narragansett  bay,  instantly  recognised  the  Indians  here  to  be 
the  same  people  as  the  Siberian  Tartars,  whose  pictures  he 
had  taken.” 


31 


Nathaniel  Smybert. 

Thus  we  see  that  Smybert  married  respectably,  and  we  know 
that  he  lived  in  Boston  in  high  estimation  until  the  year  1751, 
leaving  two  children.  One  of  the  children  of  John  Smybert, 
was  a son  of  the  name  of  Nathaniel,  who  was  born  and  died 
in  America.  We  have  the  following  notice  of  him  from  our 
valued  correspondent,  Judge  Cranch,  of  Washington,  district 
of  Columbia. 

NATHANIEL  SMYBERT. 

“There  was  a young  painter  in  Boston,  the  particular 
friend  of  my  father,  about  the  year  1755,  whose  name  should 
not  be  omitted  in  the  list  of  American  artists  ; as  he  bade  fair 
to  be  one  of  the  first  of  the  age.  His  name  was  Nathaniel 
Smybert.  I have  an  original  letter  of  friendship  from  him  to 
my  father,  (the  late  Judge  Cranch  of  Quincy,  in  Mass.)  dated 
4 Boston,  August  5,  1755,’  and  a copy  of  my  father’s  answer, 
in  which  he  says,  4 When  I consider  the  ease  with  which  your 
hand  improves  the  beauty  of  the  fairest  form,  and  adds  new 
charms  to  the  most  angelic  face,  I do  not  wonder  that  your 
riper  imagination  should  fly  beyond  your  pencil,  and  draw  the 
internal  picture  of  your  friend  so  much  fairer  than  the  original.’ 

44  In  a letter  from  my  father  to  the  late  Dr.  John  Eliot,  of 
Boston,  dated  4 Quincy,  July  20th,  1809,’  he  says  4 Mr.  Na- 
thaniel Smybert,  whom  you  mention,  was  one  of  the  most  ami- 
able youths  that  I ever  was  acquainted  with  ; hut  he  came  forth 
as  a flower  and  teas  cut  down.  I cannot  now,  after  an  interval 
of  more  than  fifty  years,  recollect  the  time  of  his  birth  or  his 
death.  I remember  that  Mr.  Peter  Chardrou,  who  took  his 
degree  in  1757,  was  then  one  of  our  acquaintance  ; and  I think 
that  Mr.  Smybert  died  about  that  time.  1 do  not  recollect 
that  he  left  any  writings.  He  received  his  grammar  instruc- 
tion under  the  famous  master  John  Lovell,  but  did  not  proceed 
to  a collegiate  education.  He  engaged  in  his  father’s  profes- 
sion of  painting,  in  which  he  emulated  the  excellencies  of  the 
best  masters ; and  had  his  life  been  spared  he  would  probably 
have  been,  in  his  day,  what  Copley  and  West  have  since  been, 
the  honour  of  America  in  the  imitative  art.  I remember  that 
one  of  his  first  portraits  was  the  picture  of  his  old  master 
Lovell,  drawn  while  the  terrific  impressions  of  the  pedagogue 
were  yet  vibrating  upon  his  nerves.  I found  it  so  perfect  a 
likeness  of  my  old  neighbour,  that  I did  not  wonder,  when  my 
young  friend  told  me  that  a sudden,  undesigned  glance  at  it 
had  often  made  him  shudder.’  ” Of 


32 


Blackburn , Williams  and  othei  s 


BLACKBURN 

all  we  know  is,  that  lie  was  nearly  contemporary  with  John 
Smybert,  and  painted  very  respectable  portraits  in  Boston.  Of 

WILLIAMS, 

who  painted  in  Philadelphia  at  the  time  Smybert  flourished  in 
Boston,  we  know  little  more  than  of  Blackburn.  This  gentle- 
man would  have  escaped  our  notice,  but  that  Benjamin  West 
remembered  him  with  gratitude,  as  the  man  who  put  into  his 
hands,  when  a boy,  the  first  books  he  had  ever  read  on  the 
subject  of  painting,  and  showed  him,  in  specimens  from  his 
own  pencil,  the  first  oil  pictures  he  had  ever  seen. 

Mr.  Williams  was  an  Englishman,  and  was  employed  by 
the  inhabitants  of  Penn’s  city,  in  1746-7,  and  perhaps  after. 
That  he  sought  knowledge  in  his  art  we  know,  or  lie  could 
not  have  lent  to  the  boy,  West,  the  works  of  Fresnoy  (of 
course  the  translation)  and  of  Richardson  ; of  his  attainments 
as  exemplified  in  his  pictures,  we  know  nothing.  ' The  instruc- 
tion that  Benjamin  West  received  from  his  conversation, his 
books,  and  his  paintings,  entitles  him  to  a place  among  those 
who  assisted  in  forwarding  the  progress  of  the  arts  of  design 
in  our  country. 

R.  FEKE 

is  the  name  of  a painter  inscribed  on  a portrait  of  Mrs.  Welling, 
with  the  date  of  1746,  of  course  was  contemporary  with  Wil- 
liams. 

GREEN 

is  the  name  of  a portrait  painter,  who  visited  the  colonies 
nearly  about  the  same  time.* 

The  next  name  we  can  record  is  that  of 
THEUS. 

A gentleman  of  this  name  painted  portraits  in  South  Caro 


* Our  friend  John  F.  Watson,  to  whom  the  public  is  indebted  for  researches 
into  the  antiquities  of  our  recent  country,  informs  us  that  he  has  seen  a portrait 
of  Samuel  Carpenter,  a primitive  settler  of  Philadelphia,  a leader,  and  one  of  its 
ablest  improvers.  The  portrait,  he  says,  is  well  painted.  This  Samuel  Carpen- 
ter was  the  original  owner  of  the  house  in  which  William  Penn  lived  in  1700,  and 
in  which  John  Penn,  the  only  one  of  the  race  born  in  America,  first  saw  the  light. 
Carpenter’s  portrait  is  a little  under  the  size  of  life,  and  is  now  (1833)  with  a 
descendant,  Isaac  C.  Jones,  Eighth-street,  Philadelphia.  This  portrait  may  have 
been  painted  before  Carpenter  left  England. 


33 


Benjamin  West — 1 7 53. 

lina,  certainly  as  early  as  1750.  The  faces  (as  we  are  inform- 
ed) were  generally  painted  with  great  care.  Our  correspond- 
ent’s expression  is,  “ beautifully  painted  but  he  had  not  the 
art  to  give  grace  and  picturesque  effect  to  the  stiff  brocades, 
enormous  ruffles,  and  outre  stays  and  stomachers  of  our  grand- 
mothers ; or  the  wigs,  velvet  coats,  and  waistcoats,  with  buck- 
ram skirts  and  flaps,  and  other  courtly  appendages  to  the  dig- 
nity of  our  grandfathers.  His  pictures  were  as  stiff  and  formal 
as  the  originals,  when  dressed  for  the  purpose  and  sitting  for 
them.  Our  valuable  correspondent,  Charles  Fraser,  Esq.  of 
Charleston,  says,  “ I own  one  of  his  pictures,  which  independ- 
ently of  its  claims  as  a family  portrait  of  1750,  I value  for  its 
excellence.” 


CHAPTER  111 

The  first  portrait  West  painted,  1753 — Galt’s  life  of  West — West  “ well  bprn” — 
Birth  and  early  education — Ambition — Encouraged  by  Pennington  and  Williams 
— By  Henry  the  gunsmith— -Doctor  Smith — Prices  for  which  West  painted — 
He  is  assisted  by  Mr.  Allen  and  other  liberal  admirers,  and  embarks  for  Italy 
— Studies  and  adventures  in  Italy — Splendour  and  misery  of  modern  Italy  at 
that  time — Further  encouragement  to  West  from  his  American  friends. 

The  next  painter,  in  chronological  order,  is  indigenous. 
We  no  longer  seek  darkling  for  any  of  the  events  we  wish  to 
record.  His  virtues  and  his  talents  have  shed  a lustre  around 
his  name,  and  we  view  him  by  a light  radiating  from  himself. 
His  influence  on  the  art  he  professed  will  never  cease. 

BENJAMIN  WEST 

commenced  portrait-painting  in  the  year  1753,  and  is  there- 
fore the  next  subject  for  the  reader’s  consideration.  We  shall 
show  his  early  efforts  in  his  native  country,  and  accompanv 
him  to  the  land  which  old  Allan  Ramsay  called  “ the  seat  of 
the  beast,”  but  which  West  found  a pure  fountain  of  instruc- 
tion— for  to  the  pure  all  is  pure — the  land  of  Buonorotti  and 
Raphael — the  land  of  colour  and  form,  and  of  all  those  asso- 
ciations which  make  and  delight  the  poet  and  the  painter. 
From  thence  we  shall  follow  him  to  the  land  of  his  fathers,  and 
show  the  effects  of  his  unsullied  life  as  a man,  and  unrivalled 
skill  in  historical  composition,  upon  the  arts  of  both  hemi- 
spheres. The  picture  copied  from  Vandyke  by  Smybert  pro- 


34 


Galt's  Life  of  West. 

duced  effects  bn  the  progress  of  art  in  America,  of  which  it  is 
difficult  to  ascertain  the  limits  ; but  the  effects  of  the  fame  and 
the  instructions  of  West  are  literally  incalculable. 

In  the  year  1753,  and  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  Benjamin  West 
commenced  portrait  and  historical  painter.  The  first  portrait, 
regularly  undertaken  as  such  from  a sitter,  was  that  of  Mrs. 
Ross,  of  Lancaster,  Pennsylvania.  But  it  is  our  duty -to  go 
back  to  an  earlier  period,  and  to  seek  from  every  source  the 
facts  appertaining  to  his  family  and  early  life. 

Honest  Allan  Cunningham  gives  us  the  following  account 
of  the  painter’s  ancestors: 

“ John  West,  the  father  of  Benjamin,  was  of  that  family 
settled  at  Long  Crendon,  in  Buckinghamshire,  which  produced 
Colonel  James  West,  the  friend  and  companion  in  arms  of 
John  Hampden.  Upon  one  occasion,  in  the  course  of  a con- 
versation in  Buckingham  Palace,  respecting  his  picture  of 
the  Institution  of  the  Garter,  West  happened  to  make  some 
allusion  to  his  English  descent;  when  the  Marquis  of  Buck- 
ingham, to  the  manifest  pleasure  of  the  late  king,  (George  III.,) 
declared  that  the  Wests  of  Long  Crendon  were  undoubted 
descendants  of  the  Lord  Delaware,  renowmed  in  the  wars  of 
Edward  the  Third  and  the  Black  Prince,  and  that  the  artist’s 
likeness  had  therefore  a right  to  a place  among  those  of  the 
nobles  and  w7arriors  in  his  own  piece.” 

Benjamin  West  has  found  a most  injudicious  biographer  in 
John  Galt,  but  still  we  may  rely  upon  certain  portions  of  his 
book,  although  we  dismiss  the  puerilities  of  the  performance, 
and  the  absurd  tales  and  speeches  of  general  officers,  Quaker 
preachers,  Indian  actors,  and  Italian  improvisatori,  which  we 
find  in  it,  as  altogether  unworthy.  West  never  could  have 
given  Mr.  Galt  a long  harangue  as  Washington’s,  addressed 
to  a woman  w ho  brought  him  a letter  from  parson  Duche  to 
persuade  him  to  renounce  the  cause  of  his  country  and  join 
the  arms  of  England.  A letter  which  agitated  the  general 
much,  as  Galt  writes,  and,  as  is  intimated,  caused  indecision  as 
to  the  course  he  should  pursue ; for  the  writer  says,  “ Having 
decided  with  himself,  he  stopped”  from  walking  “ backwards 
and  forwards,”  “ and  addressed  her  in  nearly  the  following 
words.”  Among  other  absurdities,  he  is  made  to  say,  “ I am 
here  intrusted  by  the  people  of  America  with  sovereign  autho- 
rity,” and  continues  to  justify  his  conduct  in  a strain  of  stupid 
bombast  that  would  disgrace  a schoolboy.  Neither  is  it  to  be 
believed  that  Mr.  West  furnished  his  biographer  with  the 
speeches  of  the  quaker  preachers,  or  of  the  Mohawk  Indian 
who  found  another  Mohawk  Indian  an  actor  on  the  stage  at 


Absurdities  in  Galt's  Book . 


35 


Nevv-York.  Such  passages  are  almost  enough  to  make  us 
disbelieve  the  whole  of  Mr.  Galt’s  book;  but  as  I hope  I can 
separate  the  poetry  from  the  facts,  I will  make  use  of  the  work 
in  combination  with  such  truth  as  I can  collect  from  other 
sources,  or  possess  of  my  own  knowledge.* 


* Since  writing  the  above,  ray  attention  has  been  called  to  a notice  of  John 
Galt’s  book,  in  a publication  called  “ The  Friend,”  which  so  perfectly  agrees 
with  my  previous  decision  on  the  subject,  and  is  so  conclusive,  from  facts  brought 
forward  by  the  writer,  which  did  not  come  within  the  compass  of  my  knowledge, 
that  I insert  some  extracts  as  being  connected  essentially  with  my  work,  and  show- 
ing the  gross  falsehoods  and  misapprehensions  which  are  thrust  upon  us  as  his- 
torical truth. 

“ The  extreme  improbability  of  the  narrative  here  given  of  some  of  the  prin- 
cipal events  of  the  early  life  of  our  celebrated  painter,  induced  the  writer  of  this 
notice,  soon  after  its  publication,  to  investigate  its  claims  to  authenticity.  The 
result  of  that  examination  was  published  in  one  of  the  daily  journals,  and  was 
long  since  forgotten  by  him,  until  revived  by  seeing  the  same  erroneous  narrative 
copied  into  several  recent  notices  of  Benjamin  West,  particularly  that  contained 
in  Allan  Cunningham’s  Lives  of  Celebrated  Painters,  which  forms  part  of  the 
series  of  Harpers’ Family  Library,  and  that  in  the  American  edition  of  the  Edin- 
burgh Encyclopedia.” 

Of  the  story  of  Peckover  and  of  the  effect  of  his  sermon  on  West’smother,  the 
writer  says  : 

“Now  this  is  truly  a wonderful  story,  and  if  it  were  but  true,  would  be  delight- 
ful to  many  a lover  of  the  marvellous.  Unfortunately,  however,  it  is  utterly  des- 
titute of  this  essential  quality.  The  birth  of  West  is  fixed  in  the  autumn  of  1738. 
Edmund  Peckover  did  not  visit  America  till  the  year  1743 — five  years  after  this 
pretended  prophecy.  He  was  a popular  and  fervid  preacher;  but  the  question 
whether  he  was  likely  to  have  made  the  foolish  speech  about  the  wonderful  boy, 
need  not  hereafter  be  discussed.” 

Of  the  story  of  the  meeting  of  Friends  to  decide  on  West’s  being  allowed  to 
become  a painter,  and  the  harangue  of  John  Williamson,  with  the  effect,  is  thus 
given  by  Galt : 

“At  the  conclusion  of  this  address,  the  women  rose  and  kissed  the  young 
artist,  and  the  men,  one  by  one,  laid  their  hands  on  his  head,  and  prayed  that  the 
Lord  might  verify  in  his  life  the  value  of  the  gift  which  had  induced  them,  in 
despite  of  their  religious  tenets,  to  allow  him  to  cultivate  the  faculties  of  his 
genius.” 

The  writer  in  “ The  Friend  ” justly  observes . 

“Well  might  the  author  exclaim,  the  history  of  no  other  individual  affords  an 
incident  so  extraordinary  ! The  whole  story  bears  intrinsic  marks  of  fiction  : 
and  we  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  no  such  incidents  ever  occurred  to  West. 
That  his  father,  hesitating  when  his  resolution  was  shaken  by  the  boy’s  pertina- 
city, may  have  consulted  a few  of  his  friends,  is  by  no  means  improbable  ; nei- 
ther is  it  at  all  unlikely  that  some  of  the  old  gentlemen  may  have  patted  him  on 
the  head,  and  warned  him  of  the  dangers  to  which  he  was  about  to  expose  him- 
self. But  how  strangely  would  the  polished  and  artificial  oration  of  John  Galt 
have  sounded  from  the  lips  of  honest  John  Williamson  ! It  is  a gross  and  palpa- 
ble fiction,  and  has  not  the  merit  of  probability,  or  of  what  in  painting  is  called 
keeping.  That  a meeting  of  the  religious  Society  of  Friends  was  convened  at 
the  meeting-house  in  Springfield  to  decide  on  the  destiny  of  the  boy,  is  scarcely 
possible.  That  a private  meeting  was  held  in  order  to  bestow  upon  him  in  form 
the  assent  and  blessing  of  the  Society  is  a circumstance  which  could  not  happen 
under  any  organization  of  our  society  which  has  ever  existed.  That  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  service , the  women  all  kissed  the  boy,  and  that  the  men,  one  by 
one , laid  their  hands  on  his  head , and  prayed,  is  sufficient  of  itself  to  destroy  the 
credibility  of  the  whole  memoir,  unless  in  parts  where  its  truth  is  confirmed  frojn 


36 


John  West's  oldest  Son. 


Benjamin  West,  the  youngest  son  of  John  West  and  Sarah 
Pearson,  was  born  near  Springfield,  in  Chester  county,  in  the 
province  of  Pennsylvania,  on  the  10th  of  October,  1738.  Ten 
years  after  Smybert,  as  before  stated,  visited  America  in  com- 
pany with  Dean  Berkeley. 

The  town  of  Springfield  owes  its  name  to  the  farm  on  which 
the  painter  was  born,  which  was  the  original  settlement  of  his 
maternal  grandfather ; and  in  clearing  the  first  field  a spring 
of  fine  water  was  discovered,  which  gave  name  to  the  farm, 
and  subsequently  to  the  township.  Thus  is  the  name  of  the 
town  associated  with  West,  and  derived  from  one  of  his 
ancestors. 

The  family  of  West  were  quakers,  and  emigrated  to  Ame- 
rica from  England  in  the  year  1699,  but  left  John,  the  father 
of  Benjamin,  at  school  in  the  land  of  his  nativity.  He  did  not 
join  his  relations  until  1714. 

After  having  taken  unto  himself  a wife,  he  found  it  conve- 
nient to  leave  her  with  her  relatives,  while  he  explored  the 
land  of  promise.  During  this  visit  of  pioneering,  his  wife  died 
in  childbed.  The  child  lived,  and  was  adopted  by  its  mother’s 
relations,  all  quakers.  The  father  determined  to  settle  in 
Pennsylvania,  and  wrote  to  have  the  child  sent  to  him.  Those 
who  had  charge  of  the  boy  had  become  attached  to  him,  and 
John  at  length  consented  that  his  first  born  should  remain  in 
England.  As  we  shall  never  again,  probably,  mention  this 
brother  of  the  painter,  we  shall  refer  the  reader  to  his  portrait 
in  the  West  family  picture,  which  has  been  engraved,  where 
he  is  represented  sitting  by  the  side  of  his  venerable  father, 
both  in  quaker  costume. 

Of  this  family  picture  Mr.  Leslie  in  a letter  to  us  says : 

“ When  John  West,  the  father  of  Benjamin,  accompanied 
M iss  Sewell  to  England,  as  the  affianced  bride  of  the  painter, 
the  old  gentleman  met  his  eldest  son,  who  was  a watchmaker 
settled  at  Reading,  and  at  that  time  forty  years  of  age.” 

Benjamin  West,  although  born  in  humble  life,  was  essen- 
tially well-born;  though  not  of  parents  who  by  riches  or  station 
could  insure,  or  even  promote  his  views  of  ambition.  His 
father  a man  of  sense,  his  mother  affectionate  and  exemplary. 
He  was  not  spoiled  by  indulgence  or  soured  by  thwartings. 


other  sources.  Of  John  Williamson  himself,  who  is  here  endowed  with  super- 
natural eloquence,  I have  been  able  to  learn  but  little,  and  that  little  only  from 
tradition.  The  amount  of  my  gleaning  is,  that  he  was  a man  far  from  remarka- 
ble for  any  gift  of  eloquence,  and  one  of  the  last  men  in  the  society  to  act  the 
part  assigned  him  in  this  curious  masquerade  of  quakerism  ” 


West’s  early  Effort  in  Drawing.  37 

His  natural  inclinations  were  good  ; and  they  were  not  poison 
ed  by  bad  education  or  evil  example.  The  most  precious 
part  of  his  education  was  not  intrusted  to  ignorant  and  vicious 
menials ; and  all  who  surrounded  him  were  temperate,  pure, 
and  happy.  The  sordid  sufferings  of  poverty  were  unknown 
to  him,  neither  was  he  pampered  in  the  lap  of  luxury.  As  the 
youngest  child  of  the  family,  he  was  the  favourite  of  his 
parents,  and  equally  so  of  his  brothers  and  sisters.  His  phy- 
sical advantages  were  great  from  nature,  and  the  occupations 
of  rural  life  in  childhood  tended  to  strengthen  and  perfect 
them.  He  wras  taught  in  the  school  of  realities.  He  became 
acquainted  with  things  as  they  are.  The  knowledge  which  he 
gained  in  the  school  of  experience  was  not  blasted  by  any 
untoward  circumstances.  His  genius  was  developed  by  the 
friends  his  manners  and  his  virtues  gained  him.  West  may  be 
said  to  have  been  the  favoured  of  fortune  as  well  as  nature, 
and  to  have  been  so  led  to  the  height  he  attained,  that  men 
might  say  “ we  know  not  whether  genius  or  virtue  placed  him 
there.”  This  we  know  ; vice  or  folly  did  not  counteract 
genius. 

It  is  stated  that  before  the  age  of  seven,  Benjamin,  being 
left  in  charge  of  a child  sleeping  in  a cradle,  made  his  first 
essay  at  drawing  by  attempting  to  represent  the  infant  on  a 
piece  of  paper  with  pen  and  ink.  However  imperfect  such 
an  attempt  must  have  been,  it  is  a remarkable  fact,  if  taken  in 
connexion  with  the  state  of  society  among  quakers  in  a vil- 
lage of  the  new  world  ; for  it  may  be  supposed  that  those  pic- 
tures which  ornament  books,  and  are  so  attractive  to  children, 
often  stimulating  to  imitation,  would  be  unknown  among  the 
followers  of  Penn  in  the  year  1745,  and  it  is  almost  a certainty 
that  other  pictures  did  not  exist  in  the  houses  of  these  primi- 
tive people,  although  many  and  good  were  in  various  parts  of 
the  country.  It  would  seem,  then,  that  there  was  an  intuitive 
desire  in  the  individual  to  express  by  lines  the  images  of  things 
as  they  appeared  in  his  eyes.  If  the  child  had  not  seen  am 
prints  or  pictures,  the  circumstance  above  noticed  must  be 
considered  very  extraordinary  ; and  even  if  he  had,  the  attempt 
to  draw  from  nature,  at  six  or  seven  years  of  age,  is  an  indi- 
cation of  an  uncommon  observation  of  forms,  and  still  more 
uncommon  quickness,  that  could  lead  to  attempt  their  resem- 
blance on  a flat  surface. 

The  success  of  the  child’s  efforts  excited  the  admiration  of 
his  fond  parents;  and  their  admiration  encouraged  his 
attempts.  The  consequences  were  that  in  the  quaker  habita- 
tion, rude  images  of  flowers  and  birds  and  other  things  w hich 


88 


West’s  first  Colours. 

struck  the  boy’s  fancy  were  stuck  upon  the  walls  and  exhibited 
to  the  neighbours.  We  all  know  that  engravings  and  paint- 
ings had  been  brought  into  the  colonies  long  before  this  time, 
and  that  painters  had  visited  the  cities  and  plantations,  exer- 
cising their  art ; still  Springfield  probably  had  seen  none  of 
these  wonders  or  wonder-workers,  and  those  of  its  inhabitants 
who  were  natives  of  Europe  had  probably  as  little  knowledge 
of  the  fine  arts  as  the  aborigines.  Among  such  a population 
the  scratchings  of  little  Ben  would  produce  the  exciting  effect 
which  even  the  admiration  of  ignorance  causes  in  men  as  well 
as  children  at  this  day. 

“ I find,”  says  a friend,  “ on  a page  of  Pilkington’s  Dic- 
tionary of  Painters,  this  note,  in  the  handwriting  of  Mr.  Ha- 
milton, viz.  1 General  Wayne’s  father,  who  lived  in  Springfield, 
Chester  county,  when  B.  West  was  a lad,  took  a liking  to  six 
heads  in  chalk  drawn  by  him,  and  presented  him  with  six  dol- 
lars for  them.  These  chalk  productions  were  among  Mr. 
West’s  first  performances,  and  he  was  so  much  pleased  with 
their  producing  so  large  a price,  as  to  be  thereby  chiefly 
induced  to  adopt  for  his  means  of  support  the  profession  of  a 
painter.  This  anecdote  Mr.  West  told  me  in  London  in  1785, 
and  said  also,  that  he  believed  that  Mr.  Wayne  the  elder  had 
given  the  heads  to  one  of  the  Penrose  family  (in  Philadelphia) 
into  which  a son  of  Mr.  Wayne  had  married.’  ” 

Such  was  the  commencement  of  Benjamin  West’s  drawing. 
Of  colouring  he  could  know  nothing  ; and  however  much  the 
tints  of  the  birds,  the  flowers,  the  fields  and  the  skies,  might 
delight  him,  neither  colour  nor  colouring  material  were  found 
in  the  houses  of  his  father  or  his  neighbours,  excepting  pro- 
fane indigo  to  tinge  the  starch  of  the  women’s  caps  and  ker- 
chiefs— all  else  was  holy  drab. 

Mr.  Lew7s,  the  American  biographer  of  West,  says,  that  the 
“ colours  he  used  were  charcoal  and  chalk,  mixed  with  the 
juice  of  berries  and  further,  that  “ with  such  colours  laid  on 
with  the  hair  of  a cat  draw  n through  a goose  quill,  when  about 
nine  years  of  age  he  drew  on  a sheet  of  paper  the  portraits  of 
a neighbouring  family,  in  which  the  delineation  of  each  indivi- 
dual was  sufficiently  accurate  to  be  immediately  recognised  by 
his  father,  when  the  picture  was  first  shown  to  him.  When 
about  twelve  years  old  he  drew  a portrait  of  himself,  with  his 
hair  hanging  loosely  about  his  shoulders.” 

Fortunately  for  little  Ben  the  children  of  the  forest  who  sawr 
no  crime  in  decorating  themselves  in  the  colours  which  decora- 
ted all  around  them,  were  yet  in  the  habit  of  visiting  the  pur- 
chasers of  their  land,  and  from  the  Mohawk  or  the  Delaware 


West  and  the  Tailor . 


39 


the  boy  procured  the  red  and  yellow  earths  used  by  them  at 
their  toilets.  Mrs.  West’s  indigo  pot  supplied  blue,  and  the 
urchin  thus  gained  possession  of  those  primitive  colours  which 
he  afterwards  knew  to  be  the  materials  whose  combined  ming- 
lings,  in  their  various  gradations,  give  all  the  tints  of  the 
rainbow. 

Drawing  and  painting  were  thus  introduced  to  the  being 
who  never  ceased  to  cultivate  their  acquaintance  ; but  still  he 
had  no  brushes,  and  on  being  told  that  they  could  be  made  by 
inserting  hair  into  a quill,  West  manufactured  his  first  pencils 
from  the  geese  and  the  cat  of  the  establishment. 

As  West’s  English  and  Scotch  biographers  have  an  anec- 
dote related  by  him,  marking  his  early  ambition,  we  must  not 
omit  it. 

“ One  of  his  school-fellows  allured  him  on  a half-holiday 
from  trap'and  ball,  by  promising  him  a ride  to  a neighbouring 
plantation.  ‘Here  is  the  horse,  bridled  and  saddled,’  said 
his  friend,  ‘ so  come,  get  up  behind  me.’  ‘ Behind  you!’  said 
Benjamin  ; ‘ I will  ride  behind  nobody.’  * Oh,  very  well,’ 
replied  the  other,  £ I will  ride  behind  you,  so  mount.’  He 
mounted  accordingly,  and  away  they  rode.  4 This  is  the  last 
ride  1 shall  have,’  said  his  companion,  ‘ for  some  time.  To- 
morrow I am  to  be  apprenticed  to  a tailor.’  ‘ A tailor!’  ex- 
claimed West ; ‘you  will  surely  never  be  a tailor  ?’  ‘ Indeed, 

but  I shall,’  replied  the  other;  ‘ it  is  a good  trade.  What  do 
do  you  intend  to  be,  Benjamin  ?’ — ‘ A painter.’  ‘ A painter  ! 
what  sort  of  a trade  is  a painter  ? I never  heard  of  it  before.’ 
‘ A painter,’  said  this  humble  son  of  a Philadelphia  quaker, 
‘ is  the  companion  of  kings  and  emperors.’  ‘ You  are  surely 
mad,’  said  the  embryo  tailor ; ‘ there  are  neither  kings  nor 
emperors  in  America.’ — ‘Ay,  but  there  are  plenty  in  other 
parts  of  the  world.  And  do  you  really  intend  to  be  a tailor?’ 
— ‘ Indeed  I do  ; there  is  nothing  surer.’  ‘ Then  you  may 
ride  alone,’  said  the  future  companion  of  kings  and  emperors, 
leaping  down  ; ‘Iwill  not  ride  with  one  willing  to  be  a tailor.”’ 

When  directing  our  friend  Sully  how  to  find  the  house  in 
which  he  was  born,  the  old  gentleman,  in  describing  the  road, 
pointed  out  the  spot  where  he  abandoned  the  intended  tailor. 

The  arrival  of  a merchant  from  Philadelphia,  on  a visit  to 
the  family,  added  another  link  to  the  chain  which  united  the 
boy  to  the  fine  a-rts.  Mr.  Pennington,  seeing  the  effects  of 
little  Benjamin’s  persevering  efforts,  promised  him  a box  of 
paints  and  brushes ; and,  on  his  return  to  Philadelphia,  not 
only  performed  his  promise,  but  accompanied  the  materials  for 


10 


Pennington  and  Williams. 

painting  with  several  pieces  of  canvas  prepared  for  their  recep- 
tion, and  “ six  engravings  by  Grevling.” 

The  delight  which  such  a child  would  feel  at  the  reception 
of  such  a present,  can  be  better  imagined  than  described.  The 
consequence  was  imitation  of  the  engravings  in  colours  on  the 
canvas,  with  such  success  as  delighted  his  parents,  and  asto- 
nished their  neighbours.  The  result  of  this  boyish  effort  to 
combine  figures  from  engravings,  and  invent  a system  of  colour- 
ing, was  exhibited  sixty-seven  years  afterwards,  in  the  same 
room  with  the  “ Christ  Rejected.” 

In  the  building  erected  to  receive  “The  Healing  in  the 
Temple,”  presented  by  West  to  the  Pennsylvania  Hospital, 
may  now  (1833)  be  seen  two  of  those  juvenile  performances 
painted  on  pannel.  The  largest  is  his  own  composition,  and 
consists  of  a white  cow,  who  is  the  hero  of  the  piece,  and  sun- 
dry trees,  houses,  men,  and  ships,  combined  in  a manner  per- 
fectly childish : the  other  is  a sea-piece,  copied  from  a print, 
with  a perfect  lack  of  skill,  as  might  be  expected. 

Shortly  after  these  first  attempts  to  paint  with  painters’  ma- 
terials and  tools,  the  boy  was  permitted  to  accompany  the  donor 
of  the  treasures  to  the  metropolis  of  Pennsylvania.  With  Mr. 
Pennington  the  youth  resided  ; and  after  the  novelty  of  a city 
had  ceased  to  distract  his  attention,  he  commenced  his  second 
picture  in  oil  colouring,  for  his  friend  and  relative.  At  this 
time  Mr.  Samuel  Shoemaker,  who,  though  a quaker,  had 
employed  Mr.  Williams,  an  artist  then  residing  in  the  city,  to 
paint  a picture  for  him,  desired  the  painter  to  carry  it  to  Mr. 
Pennington’s,  that  young  West  might  see  it.  This  is  the  first 
notice  we  have  of  any  oil  painting  being  seen  by  Benjamin, 
save  his  own  ; and  his  admiration  of  Williams’s  work  was 
similar  to  that  which  his  own  produced  at  Springfield.  Mr. 
Williams  was  interested  in  the  lad,  and  finding  that  his  read- 
ing did  not  extend  beyond  the  Bible,  lent  him  the  works  of 
Fresnoy  and  Richardson,  invited  him  to  see  his  pictures  and 
drawings,  and  may  be  called  the  first  instructor  of  West. 

These  books  West  was  permitted  to  carry  home  when  he 
left  the  city  ; and  Fresnoy  and  Richardson  not  only  confirmed 
the  boy’s  ambition  to  become  a painter,  but  to  aspire  to  the 
fellowship  of  kings  and  emperors.  We  have  seen  that  he  would 
not  ride  on  the  same  horse  with  a schoolmate  who  w7as  content 
with  the  prospect  of  becoming  a tailor. 

The  first  money  received  by  West  for  his  works  as  an  artist , 
was  from  Mr.  Wayne,  in  exchange  for  drawings  made  on  poplar 
boards;  and  Dr.  Jonathan  Morris  made  him  a present  of  “a 
few  dollars  to  buy  materials  to  paint  with.”  At  the  house  of 


41 


First  Fainting  of  Portrait  and  History. 

Mr.  Flower,  the  boy  first  became  acquainted  with  books  of 
profane  history,  and  from  an  English  lady,  the  governess  of 
Mr.  Flower’s  children,  he  received  instruction  from  the  histo- 
rians and  poets  of  his  friend’s  library. 

At  Lancaster  he  made  his  first  essay  as  a painter  of  portraits, 
and,  as  may  be  supposed,  gained  admiration  and  custom.  A 
gunsmith,  of  the  name  of  Henry,  employed  him  to  paint  the 
death  of  Socrates,  an  event  he  had  not  at  the  time  heard  of. 
The  gunsmith  read  the  story  to  him,  and  left  him  the  book, 
and  one  of  the  workmen  stood  as  a model  for  one  of  the 
figures.  This  led  to  the  study  of  the  human  form,  and  showed 
the  youth  the  importance  of  anatomy  as  connected  with  the 
arts  of  design. 

While  West  was  at  Lancaster,  Dr.  Smith,  provost  of  the 
college  at  Philadelphia,  visited  the  place,  and  seeing  the  result 
of  the  boy’s  efforts,  warmly  interested  himself  in  his  welfare. 
He  proposed  to  the  elder  West  to  send  his  son  to  the  capital, 
and  offered  to  instruct  him  in  English  classical  literature. 
This  liberal  offer  was  gladly  accepted,  and  Benjamin  sent  to 
reside  with  I is  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Clarkson,  where  he  pur- 
sued his  studies  and  became  an  associate  of  Francis  Hopkin- 
son,  Thomas  Godfrey,  Jacob  Duche,  and  Joseph  Reid,  then, 
like  himself,  unknown  to  fame.  Of  these  school  days  West 
makes  incidental  mention  in  a letter,  when  speaking  of  the 
long-venerated  tree  under  which  Penn  concluded  his  treaty 
with  the  Indians, — a tree  which  the  painter  introduced  into 
his  picture  on  the  subject.  He  says,  This  tree,  which  was 
held  in  the  highest  veneration  by  the  original  inhabitants  of 
my  native  country — by  the  first  settlers  and  by  their  descend- 
ants— and  which  I well  remember  about  the  year  1755.  when  a 
boy,  often  resorting  to  it  with  my  schoolfellow  s,  (the  spot  being 
a favourite  one  for^assembling  in  the  hours  of  leisure,)  was  in 
some  danger  during  the  American  war  of  1775,  when  the  Bri- 
tish possessed  the  country,  from  the  parties  sent  out  in  search 
of  wood  for  firing  ; but  the  late  General  Simcoe,  who  had  the 
command  of  the  district  where  it  grew,  from  a regard  for  the 
character  of  William  Penn,  and  the  interest  which  he  took  in 
the  history  connected  with  the  tree,  ordered  a guard  of  British 
soldiers  to  protect  it  from  the  axe.  This  circumstance  the 
General  related  to  me,  in  answer  to  my  inquiries  concerning 
it,  (the  tree,)  after  he  returned  to  England.”  See  for  this 
letter  of  West’s  the  Memoirs  of  the  Historical  Society  of  Penn- 
sylvania, 1825,  p.  97. 

Provost  Smith  directed  West’s  studies  with  a view  to  the 
profession  he  had  chosen  ; and  his  reading  of  history  conduced 


42 


Cunningham' s Romance — West  a Soldier. 

most  to  the  attaining  that  knowledge  which  would  be  more 
serviceable  to  the  painter  than  to  the  politician  or  man  of  the 
world.  It  is  said,  that  while  the  son  was  preparing  himself  for 
the  brilliant  career  destined  for  him,  the  father  had  some 
quaker-qualms  on  the  subject,  and  held  a consultation  with  the 
wise  men  of  the  Meeting  of  Friends , which  resulted  in  a per- 
mission given  contrary  to  the  principles  of  the  sect,  for  the 
youth  to  pursue  the  bent  of  his  inclination,  and  to  administer 
to  those  vanities  their  religious  tenets  told  them  to  eschew  as 
the  snares  of  the  evil  one.  We  must  not  doubt  this  incident, 
given  on  such  authority,  but  the  argumentative  speeches  which 
led  to  this  curious  anti-religious  conclusion  we  may  consider 
in  the  light  of  such  as  might  hare  been  suggested  to  the  mind  of 
John  Galt , rather  than  such  as  were  actually  delivered. 

Mr.  Galt  relates  an  adventurous  enterprise  of  an  elder  bro- 
ther of  Benjamin  West,  and  Cunningham  transcribes  it  from 
Galt,  and  substitutes  Benjamin  for  his  brother  as  the  military 
hero  of  the  story.  He  says, 

“ Being  now  left  more  to  the  freedom  of  his  own  will,  West 
deviated  into  a course  not  at  all  professional,  but  for  which  the 
accommodating  eloquence  of  a John  Williamson  might  have 
conceived  a ready  apology.  He  became  a soldier.  The 
Friends  had  not  included  this  among  those  pure  and  pious 
pursuits  which  they  ascribed  to  the  future  painter  of  history  ; 
they  expressed,,  however,  neither  surprise  nor  sorrow  for  this 
backsliding  in  Benjamin,  nor  did  they  either  admonish  or  re- 
monstrate. He  took  up  a musket — inspired  with  his  enthu- 
siasm young  Wayne,  afterward  a distinguished  officer — and 
joining  the  troops  of  General  Forbes,  proceeded  in  search  of 
the  relics  of  that  gallant  army  lost  in  the  desert  by  the  unfor- 
tunate General  Braddock. 

“ To  West  and  his  companions  were  added  a select  body  of 
Indians;  these  again  were  accompanied  by  several  officers  of 
the  Old  Highland  Watch — the  well-known  forty-second,  com- 
manded by  the  most  anxious  person  of  the  whole  detachment, 
Major  Sir  Peter  Halket,  who  had  lost  his  father  and  brother 
in  that  unhappy  expedition.  Though  many  months  had 
elapsed  since  the  battle,  and  though  time,  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
the  beasts  of  the  field,  and  wild  men  more  savage  than  they, 
had  done  their  worst,  Halket  was  not  without  hopes  of  finding 
the  remains  of  his  father  and  his  brother,  as  an  Indian  warrior 
assured  him  that  he  had  seen  an  elderly  officer  drop  dead  be- 
neath a large  and  remarkable  tree,  and  a young  subaltern, 
who  hastened  to  his  aid,  fall  mortally  wounded  across  the  body. 
After  a long  march  through  the  woods,  they  approached  the 


43 


Unfounded  Story  as'  regards  the  Painter. 

fatal  valley.  They  were  affected  at  seeing  the  bones  of  men, 
who,  escaping  wounded  from  invisible  enemies,  had  sunk  down 
and  expired  as  they  leaned  against  the  trees,  and  they  were 
shocked  to  see  in  other  places  the  relics  of  their  countrymen 
mingled  with  the  ashes  of  the  savage  bivouacs. 

“ When  they  reached  the  principal  scene  of  destruction,  the 
Indian  guide  looked  anxiously  round,  darted  into  the  wood, 
and  in  a few  seconds  raised  a shrill  cry.  Halket  and  West 
hastened  to  the  place — the  Indian  pointed  out  the  tree — a cir- 
cle of  soldiers  were  drawn  round  it,  while  others  removed  the 
leaves  of  the  forest  which  had  fallen  since  the  fight.  They 
found  two  skeletons — one  lying  across  the  other — Halket 
looked  at  the  skulls,  said,  faintly,  ‘It  is  my  father!’  and 
dropped  senseless  in  the  arms  of  his  companions.  On  recov- 
ering, he  said,  “I  know  who  it  is  by  that  artificial  tooth.” 
They  dug  a grave  in  the  desert,  covered  the  bones  with  a 
Highland  plaid,  and  interred  them  reverently.  This  scene, 
at  once  picturesque  and  pious,  made  a lasting  impression  on 
the  artist’s  mind.  After  he  had  painted  the  Death  of  Wolfe, 
he  proposed  the  finding  of  the  bones  of  the  Halkets,  as  an  his- 
torical subject;  and,  describing  to  Lord  Grosvenor  the  gloomy 
wood,  the  wild  Indians,  the  passionate  grief  of  the  son,  and 
the  sympathy  of  his  campanions,  said,  he  conceived  it  would 
form  a picture  full  of  dignity  and  sentiment.  His  lordship 
thought  otherwise.  The  subject  which  genius  chooses  for 
itself  is,  however,  in  most  cases,  the  best.  The  sober  imagi- 
nation of  West  had  here  a twofold  excitement — he  had  witness- 
ed the  scene,  and  it  was  American — and  had  Lord  Grosvenor 
encouraged  him  to  embody  his  conception,  the  result  would,  I 
doubt  not,  have  been  a worthy  companion  to  the  Death  of 
Wolfe.” 

Now,  as  far  as  the  painter  is  concerned,  the  story  is  pure 
fiction.  And  as  a subject,  for  historical  composition,  it  is 
utterly  unworthy  of  being  classed  with  the  Battle  of  Quebec, 
on  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  The  one,  though  picturesque  and 
pathetic,  is  a private  event,  and  without  consequences;  the 
other,  one  of  the  most  influential  causes  of  mighty  effects 
which  the  world  has  known.  The  victory  gained  by  Wolfe, 
annihilated  the  power  of  France  on  this  continent,  and  esta- 
blished reformed  religion,  English  language  arts  and  litera- 
ture, and  more  than  English  liberty  from  Mexico  to  the  North 
pole,  and  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific. 

In  the  year  1756  the  mother  of  the  young  painter  died,  and 
in  August  of  that  year  he  took  his  leave  of  Springfield,  and 
went  again  to  reside  in  Philadelphia,  under  the  roof  of  his  bro- 


44 


West's  Desire  to  visit  Italy. 

ther-in=law.  He  now  had  full  employment  as  a portrait- 
painter,  and  gained  a portion  of  that  facility  of  execution 
which  was  remarkable  in  his  after  life.  He  enjoyed  still  the 
instruction  of  Dr.  Smith,  and  while  his  days  were  devoted  to 
his  esel,  his  evenings  were  probably  employed  in  listening  to 
his  preceptor,  or  reading  the  books  he  pointed  out  for  his  pe- 
rusal. As  his  mind  strengthened,  and  the  powers  of  discrimi- 
nation increased— as  his  eyes  became  open  to  the  beauties  of 
lature,  and  his  power  of  imitating  those  beauties  increased,  the 
perception  of  his  deficiencies  likewise  increased,  with  the  ardent 
desire  to  examine  the  wonders  of  art  which  could  at  that  time 
only  be  seen  by  visiting  Italy.  This  desire  stimulated  the  in- 
dustry, and  added  to  the  self-denying  frugality  of  the  virtuous 
and  gifted  youth.  He  looked  forward  to  the  time  when  the 
product  of  his  industry  would  enable  him  to  transport  himself 
to  the  land  of  his  wishes,  the  land  of  the  fine  arts.  Such  pic- 
tures as  had  been  brought  to  the  provinces,  and  fell  within  the 
limited  range  of  the  boy’s  observation,  while  they  added  to 
his  knowledge  of  the  art,  added  tenfold  to  his  anxiety  for  the 
time  to  arrive  when  he  could  drink  at  the  fountain  from  which 
these  scanty  streams  were  derived.  Governor  Hamilton  had  a 
collection  of  pictures  which  were  placed  at  West’s  disposal  as 
objects  of  study,  and  among  them  a Murillo  which  had  been 
captured  in  a Spanish  prize.  This  picture,  a St.  Ignatius,  was 
copied  by  the  youth,  and  added  to  his  reputation  and  his  skill. 
Dr.  Smith  suggested  the  idea  of  combining  historical  and  por- 
trait painting,  and  West  painted  the  provost  in  the  attitude 
and  style  of  St.  Ignatius.  This  is  a false  taste.  Every  por- 
trait ought  to  convey  a portion  of  the  history  of  its  own  times. 
The  value  of  the  portraits  of  Vandyke  and  Reynolds,  is  in- 
creased by  tiie  knowledge  they  convey  of  the  costume  and 
manners  of  the  time  at  which  they  were  painted  ; and  a grocer 
of  Thames-strcet  as  a Ceesar  or  Hector— -or  a doctor  of  divi- 
nity as  a martyr  or  saint,  may  cause  the  admiration  and  con- 
found the  ideas  of  the  ignorant,  but  can  only  excite  the  ridicule 
of  the  well-informed  beholder.  All  this  practice  tended  to  im- 
prove the  young  artist  and  extend  his  fame.  Mr.  Cox  em- 
ployed him  to  paint  an  historical  picture.  The  Trial  of  Susan- 
nah was  the  subject  chosen  and  executed.  Mr.  Galt  says,  “it 
is  not  known  what  has  become  of  this  picture.”  It  is,  how- 
ever, known  to  us,  and  although  the  artist  in  his  old  age  had 
forgotten  the  circumstances  attending  the  composition,  and  the 
assistance  he  received  therein,  it  appears  that  he  made  ample 
use  of  a print  on  the  subject,  which  had  fallen  in  his  way. 


West  in  New  - York. 


45 


At  this  time  the  remuneration  of  West  for  his  portraits  was 
two  guineas  and  a half  for  a head,  and  five  for  a half-length. 
He  visited  New-York  with  a view  to  the  increase  of  his  prices, 
that  the  object  for  which  he  desired  money  might  the  sooner  be 
placed  within  his  grasp — improvement . In  New-York  he 

painted  many  portraits,  but  few  have  been  preserved  from 
those  tombs  of  the  Capulets  destined  for  the  works  of  the  mass 
of  painters — the  nursery,  where  urchins  set  them  up  as  marks 
for  their  puny  archery ; or  the  garret,  where  cats  litter  among 
the  satins  of  our  grandmothers,  or  mice  feast  on  the  well  pow- 
dered wigs  of  our  grandsires.  Some  three  or  four  of  West’s 
immortal  works  of  this  date,  may  be  found  in  America,  by  in- 
dustry, perseverance,  and  much  labour,  and  when  found  can 
scarcely  be  seen  through  a mass  of  dinginess,  or  will  be  found 
defaced  by  careful  scouring,  with  here  and  there  a hole,  patched 
or  unpatched,  received  in  a May-day  moving,  or  while  exposed 
to  the  incidents  of  the  cock-loft. 

In  our  researches  we  were  directed,  by  the  honourable  Ed- 
mund Pendleton,  to  a portrait  of  one  of  his  maternal  ancestors, 
Mrs.  Dinah  Bard,  (born  Marmion,)  which  we  found  at  Tren- 
ton, New-Jersey,  at  the  residence  of  one  of  her  descendents,  Mr. 
Charles  Fraser.  This  picture  was  painted  in  a style  which 
justifies  in  part  the  eulogiums  recorded  by  Galt,  as  bestowed 
upon  West’s  first  head  finished  in  Rome.  It  had  been  firmly 
painted  and  well  drawn,  and  the  drapery  carefully  made  out; 
but  it  is  injured  by  time,  and  had  received  two  bullets  or  bay- 
onet wounds  during  the  war  of  the  revolution,  which  had  never 
been  cured,  though  patched  up.  Her  husband’s  portrait 
(Peter  Bard,  Esq.)  is  returned  “ missing.”  There  are  older 
portraits  in  Mr.  Fraser’s  house  by  other  hands,— -no  trace  of 
the  artist’s  name  remaining,  and  nothing  in  the  work  indicating 
a name  worth  preserving. 

We  found  at  Germantown  a portrait  painted  in  West’s 
youth,  of  a gentleman  of  the  Morris  family.  This  was  in 
better  preservation  than  the  above,  and  a still  better  picture. 
Judicious  cleaning  and  lining  would  preserve  it,  and  it  is  well 
worth  preserving. 

The  young  painter  pursued  his  professional  labours  eleven 
months  in  New-York,  at  prices  double  those  he  received  in 
Philadelphia,  and  had  accumulated  nearly  enough,  by  his  in- 
dustry, to  waft  him  to  the  “land  where  the  orange  trees 
bloom,”  and  where  the  fine  arts  have  left  a lasting  impression 
of  the  time  they  did  flourish,  when  he  heard  that  a ship  was 
about  to  sail  from  his  own  homely  country  to  carry  food  to  the 
inhabitants  of  Italy,  who  have  in  modern  as  well  as  ancient 


46 


Virtue  a Cause  of  West’s  Success. 

times  been  more  abounding  in  marbles  than  bread.  Mr.  Allen, 
of  Philadelphia,  was  loading  a ship  with  flour  for  Leghorn, 
and  West,  who  was  painting  the  picture  of  Mr.  Kelly,  of  New- 
Ycrk,  when  he  heard  the  news,  mentioned  it  to  his  sitter,  with 
his  intention  to  take  advantage  of  this  extraordinary  occur- 
rence. Kelly’s  portrait  being  finished,  and  the  ten  guineas 
paid  for  it,  he  gave  a letter  in  charge  to  the  painter  for  his 
agents  in  Philadelphia,  which,  on  delivery,  proved  an  order 
for  fifty  guineas,  to  assist  the  youth  in  his  projected  journey 
and  intended  studies  abroad.  In  the  meantime  Mr.  Allen  had 
determined  that  his  son  should  have  the  benefit  of  travel,  by 
accompanying  the  flour;  and  West’s  invaluable  friend,  Provost 
Smith,  had  obtained  permission  for  the  young  painter  to  ac- 
company the  young  merchant.  Thus  every  thing  seemed  to 
conspire  for  the  furtherance  of  the  youth’s  advancement  in  the 
road  to  wealth  and  honour.  He  found  friends  eager  to  assist 
him  at  every  step.  Was  it  not  because  it  was  seen  by  all  that 
every  step  was  in  the  right  path — that  his  mind  was  as  deeply 
imbued  with  the  love  of  virtue  as  with  the  love  of  his  art? 
Such  was  the  character  of  West  through  life  ; and  through 
life  his  success  was  uniform.  He  met  in  his  way  false  friends, 
detractors  and  libellers,  but  he  never  turned  aside;  and  as  he 
approached  that  height  at  which  he  aimed  from  childhood,  the 
hands  of  those  who  had  attained  or  had  been  seated  on  the 
high  places  in  his  upward  way,  were  stretched  forth  to  wel- 
come him.  We  see  the  undeviating  tribute  paid  to  worth  and 
genius  in  its  ascending  progress,  whether  in  the  homely  en- 
couragement given  by  Henry  the  gunsmith,  of  Lancaster,  the 
refined  and  well  directed  friendship  of  Provost  Smith,  the 
frank  liberality  of  the  merchants  Kelly  and  Allen,  the  enlight- 
ened admiration  of  the  men  of  fortune  who  received  him  with 
open  arms  at  Rome,  as  we  have  yet  to  mention,  and  finally  in 
the  smiles  of  the  nobles  and  the  sovereign  of  England,  who 
hailed  his  arrival  with  joy  in  the  land  of  his  fathers. 

Mr.  West,  in  the  reminiscences  communicated  to  his  biogra- 
pher, mentions,  that  while  he  was  waiting  for  the  sailing  of 
the  ship,  which  was  to  bear  him  to  the  land  he  longed  to  see, 
he  again  met  his  friend  Henry  the  gunsmith,  and  the  artist’s 
grateful  recollections  of  this  man  is  in  common  with  his  pure 
and  virtuous  character.  Henry  had  introduced  him  to  his  first 
knowledge  of  history,  by  lending  him  Plutarch,  and  excited 
him  to  attempt  his  first  historical  picture  by  employing  him, 
arid  aiding  him  to  paint  the  death  of  Socrates,  in  the  year 
1759. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-one,  Benjamin  West  embarked  with 


West  in  Rome. 


47 


young  Allen,  and  soon  arrived  at  Gibraltar,  where  the  ship 
stopped  for  convoy.  Captain  Kearny,  commanding  the  ships 
of  war  on  the  station,  was  a friend  of  young  Allen’s  father,  and 
the  young  man,  with  his  companion,  being  invited  to  dine  on 
board  his  ship,  West  was  introduced  favourably  to  the  officers, 
with  whom  he  proceeded  up  the  Mediterranean.  Messrs. 
Rutherford  and  Jackson  were  the  correspondents  of  Mr.  Allen, 
and  the  young  painter,  having  delivered  his  credentials  to  them 
at  Leghorn,  was  furnished  with  letters  to  Cardinal  Albani  and 
other  distinguished  characters  at  Rome.  Under  these  favour- 
able auspices  the  quaker  painter  proceeded  on  his  journey  in 
charge  of  a French  courier,  who  had  been  engaged  by  his 
Leghorn  friends  as  his  guide  and  interpreter,  and  gained  his 
first  view  of  the  immortal  city  from  a height  at  eight  miles  dis- 
tance. It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  impression  such  a prospect, 
and  its  attendant  anticipations,  would  make  upon  an  American 
youth  of  that  day,  and  it  is  much  safer  to  leave  the  subject  to 
the  imagination  of  the  reader  than  to  obtrude  upon  him  the 
surmises  of  the  writer.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  unsophisti- 
cated Yankee  arrived  safe  at  the  great  metropolis,  and  was 
introduced  to  the  remains  of  her  ancient  taste  and  splendour, 
scarcely  more  the  object  of  his  admiration,  than  he  was  of  at- 
tention to  the  nobles  of  Italy,  and  the  illustrious  strangers 
with  whom  the  city  swarmed.  An  American  had  come  to 
study  painting,  and  that  American  a quaker  ! This  was  a 
matter  of  astonishment,  and  when  it  was  found  that  the  young 
man  was  neither  black  nor  a savage,  but  fair,  intelligent,  and 
already  a painter,  West  became  emphatically  the  lion  of  the 
day  in  Rome. 

It  was  on  the  10th  of  July,  1760,  that  the  French  courier 
deposited  the  youth  at  an  hotel  in  the  great  city,  and  spread 
the  strange  story  abroad  that  a quaker  and  an  American  had 
come  to  study  the  fine  arts  in  Italy;  this  appeared  so  extraor- 
dinary to  an  English  gentleman,  Mr.  Robinson,  that  lie  imme- 
diately sought  him,  and  insisted  on  his  dining  with  him.  The 
letters  brought  by  West  proved  to  be  for  Mr.  Robinson’s 
friends,  and  the  artist  had  the  advantage  of  an  immediate  in- 
troduction to  the  best  society  of  Rome. 

At  the  house  of  Mr.  Crespigne  he  was  presented  to  Cardi- 
nal Albani,  who  although  blind,  “ had  acquired,  by  the  ex- 
quisite delicacy  of  his  touch,  and  the  combining  powers  of  his 
mind,”  we  quote  Mr.  Galt,  “such  a sense  of  ancient  beauty, 
that  he  excelled  all  the  virtuosi  of  Rome  in  the  correctness  of 
his  knowledge  of  the  verity  and  peculiarities  of  the  smallest 
medals  and  intaglios.”  To  this  virtuosi  Mr.  Robinson  intro- 


48 


The  Cardinal  and  the  Apollo. 


duced  the  quaker  as  “ a young  American,  who  had-  come  to 
Italy  for  the  purpose  of  studying  the  fine  arts;”  and  the  query 
of  the  cardinal  was,  “ Is  he  black  or  white  ?” 

West,  among  the  many  advantages  derived  from  nature, 
possessed  a fine  form,  and  a face  as  fair  as  artists  paint  angels, 
or  lovers  their  mistresses.  At  the  age  of  fifty  he  was  remark- 
able for  comeliness ; audit  is  presumed  that  at  the  period  of 
which  we  treat,  his  appearance  must  have  been  very  prepos- 
sessing, and  not  the  less  for  the  flowing  locks  and  simple  attire 
of  his  sect.  The  cardinal  being  satisfied  that  the  painter  was 
as  white  as  himself \ (that  being  his  next  inquiry,)  received  him 
graciously,  examined  his  face  and  head,  with  his  fingers,  ex- 
pressed his  admiration,  and  made  up  a party  to  witness  the 
impression  which  the  sight  of  the  chef  d’oeuvres  of  antiquity, 
would  make  upon  a native  of  the  new  world.  The  Apollo 
was  first  shown  him,  and  his  exclamation  was,  “ How  like  a 
young  Mohawk  warrior  !” 

The  Italians,  on  having  the  words  translated  by  Mr.  Ro- 
binson, were  mortified,  but  when  West,  at  that  gentleman’s 
request,  described  the  Mohawk  in  his  state  of  native  freedom, 
as  seen  in  those  days,  his  speed,  his  vigour,  his  exercise  with 
the  bow, — when  Mr.  Robinson  interpreted  the  words,  “I  have 
seen  a Mohawk  standing  in  that  very  attitude,  intensely  pur- 
suing with  his  eye  the  flight  of  the  arrow  just  discharged  from 
the  bow,”  his  auditory  were  delighted  by  the  criticism  of  the 
stranger,  and  applauded  his  untutored  acumen. 

Galt  tells  a story  very  seriously  of  an  Italian  improvisatore 
and  his  rhodomontade  about  America  and  West,  which  Cun- 
ningham treats  as  a quiz  upon  the  young  quaker  painter.  We 
had  the  story  from  another  source  many  years  ago,  and  pub- 
lished it  in  a short-lived  periodical  which  we  then  called  “ The 
Monthly  Recorder.”  (See  No.  3,  p.  172.) 

The  following  anecdote  is  related  by  an  American  travel- 
ler who,  calling  to  see  Mr.  West,  found  him  in  conversation 
with  an  Italian  gentleman  on  the  subject  of  the  improvisatori, 
and  is  one  among  the  many  thousand  instances  of  the  pro- 
found ignorance  in  which  Europeans  generally  remain  res- 
pecting this  country.  While  we,  as  descendants  from  one  of 
the  proudest  and  most  enlightened  nations  of  the  world,  enjoy- 
ing their  institutions,  and  improving  upon  their  improvements, 
know  and  feel  our  high  standing  in  society  ; we  see  a vaga- 
bond Italian  rhymster  treating  us  as  savages,  and  looking 
forward  to  our  future  illumination  as  the  effects  of  a ray  from 
the  sun  of  science  blazing  in  modern  Rome.  We  give  it  in 
the  words  of  the  writer,  in  a letter  to  his  friends. 


Improvisatori.  Cardinal  Albam.  49 

“ There  was  an  Italian  gentleman  with  him,  to  whom  he 
was  talking  about  the  improvisatori,  or  itinerant  poets,  who 
recite  verses  extempore.  Mr.  West  said  that  soon  after  his 
arrival  in  Rome,  while  he  was  sitting  in  the  English  coffee- 
house, with  an  American  gentleman,  one  of  these  poets,  who 
was  very  celebrated  at  that  time,  and  went  by  the  name  of 
Homer,  came  in,  and  walking  up  to  Mr.  West’s  friend,  who 
knew  him,  requested  him  to  give  him  a subject,  as  was  custo- 
mary. The  gentleman  said  he  had  a new  subject  for  him — 
there,  said  he,  is  a young  American,  arrived  in  Rome  to  study 
the  fine  arts,  (for  Mr.  West  was  the  first  of  our  countrymen 
who  had  gone  there  for  such  a purpose.)  The  improvisatore 
proceeded  to  prepare  himself  for  his  task,  and  sitting  directly 
opposite  to  Mr.  West,  began  tuning  his  guitar,  which  was  an 
enormous  one,  bending  his  body  from  side  to  side  until  he 
worked  himself  (as  Mr.  West  said)  in  perfect  tune  with  the 
instrument ; he  then  began  his  poem,  and  described  the  Al- 
mighty as  having  determined  to  enlighten  those  nations  of  the 
world  that  were  yet  in  darkness.  For  this  purpose  he  had 
sent  out  an  Italian  (Americus  Vespucius)  to  civilize  the  inha- 
bitants, and  establish  manufactures,  useful  arts,  &c.,  on  the 
vast  continent  of  America.  That  when  civilization  had  consi- 
derably advanced  through  succeeding  ages,  God  shed  a ray 
of  divine  light  upon  genius , which  before  was  but  a dormant 
material  there;  it  instantly  kindled  and  lighted  up  a flame  in 
the  breast  of  this  young  savage  (Mr.  West)  while  a guiding 
star  appeared  to  direct  his  steps  to  Italy,  to  seek  for  improve- 
ment— he  had  followed  it  until  it  had  led  him  to  Rome.  Here 
the  poet  entered  into  a warm  eulogium  on  his  native  country, 
and  the  treasures  of  art  it  possessed ; and  concluded  by  pro- 
phesying that  the  young  savage  should  be  the  first  to  transplant 
the  arts  to  America,  and  that  in  time  she  would  become  the 
greatest  nation  on  earth.” 

We  presume  this  is  no  uncommon  way  for  the  pauper-poet 
to  put  a little  coin  in  his  pocket.  West,  of  course,  could  not 
understand  him,  and  West’s  companion  gave  him  a trifle  as  a 
compensation  for  his  flattery.  Mr.  Leslie,  in  one  of  his  letters 
to  us,  gives  the  story  of  the  blind  cardinal  immediately  from 
West.  “You  recollect  that  Mr.  West’s  complexion  was  re- 
markably fair  ; even  in  extreme  old  age  it  was  so.  He  was  a 
very  handsome  old  man.  He  told  me  that  soon  after  his  arri- 
val in  Italy,  he  was  introduced  to  a cardinal  who  was  blind. 
His  reverence  was  accustomed  to  pass  his  hand  over  the  faces 
of  strangers  who  were  presented  to  him,  in  order  to  judge  of 
their  countenances.  On  doing  so  to  Mr.  West,  he  said,  “ This 

7 


50 


Italian  splendour  and  misery . 

young  savage  has  very  good  features,  but  what  is  his  com- 
plexion ?”  The  reply  was  that  it  was  fair,  “What,”  said 
the  cardinal,  with  astonishment,  “ as  fair  as  I am?”  Mr. 
West  had  the  greatest  difficulty  to  refrain  from  laughing,  for 
the  cardinal’s  complexion  was  of  the  darkest  brown  of  Italy, 
and  possibly  some  shades  darker  than  many  of  the  American 
Indians.” 

The  effect  produced  by  the  works  of  art  in  pictures  or  sta- 
tues, by  the  palaces  and  churches,  by  the  splendour  of  social 
intercourse  or  of  religious  ceremonies,  upon  a youth  from  our 
country  at  that  time,  can  hardly  be  conceived  by  us  at  this 
day.  We  have  our  galleries  of  paintings  and  statues,  our 
marble  domes  and  column-faced  temples,  erected  to  luxury, 
wealth  and  religion ; and  the  quaker  boy  who  now  leaves 
America  may  be  familiar  with  the  pomp  of  papal  ceremonies, 
and  the  overpowering  excellence  of  Italian  music,  so  far  as 
not  to  be  astounded  by  the  novelty  of  the  objects  which  w ill 
meet  his  view  in  Europe.  Upon  such  a youth  as  Benjamin 
West,  new  from  such  a country  as  this  then  was,  the  effect  of 
such  objects  must  be  left  to  the  imagination  of  the  reader. 
“ But  neither  the  Apollo,  the  Vatican,  or  the  pomp  of  the  Ca- 
tholic ritual”  made  such  an  impression  on  the  American  youth, 
or  excited  his  feelings  to  so  great  a degree,  as  the  spectacle  of 
poverty,  nakedness,  filth  and  disease,  which  met  his  eye  at 
every  turn,  and  the  cries  for  relief  urged  in  the  names  he  had 
in  his  own  happy  country  only  heard  in  the  prayers  of  the 
sanctuary.  The  contrast  which  such  scenes  present  between 
American  and  European  society,  happily,  for  one  party,  may 
appear  as  striking  now  as  in  the  lime  of  the  first  visit  of  a 
painter  from  the  new  to  the  old  world. 

It  is  related  by  Mr.  Galt  that  West’s  first  specimen  of  paint- 
ing in  Europe,  a portrait  of  Mr.  Robinson,  was  said  to  be 
better  coloured  than  the  works  of  Mengs,  at  that  time  the 
greatest  painter  in  Rome,  and  that  the  young  American  was 
pronounced  the  second  in  rank  in  that  Capital.  This  asser- 
tion does  not  accord  with  the  fact  that  few  of  West’s  pictures 
previous  to  that  time  appear  to  have  merited  preservation. 
Many  of  Copley’s  works  painted  before  he  left  his  country  are 
yet  to  be  seen  and  admired.  We  have  been  obliged  to  search 
diligently  for  any  specimen  of  West’s  portrait  painting  before 
he  left  America,  and  when  we  have  found  it,  it  has  hardly  been 
worth  the  search.  This,  however,  we  can  say,  that  we  have 
found  none  better  among  the  works  of  his  predecessors.  They 
are  not  such  as  we  should  expect  would  rival  Mengs  in  colouring 
or  any  thing  else  ; we  have  previously  mentioned  those  of  Mr. 


51 


West,  Mengs  and  Battoni . 

Bard  and  Mr.  Morris,  and  we  may  not  have  seen  the  best 
he  painted  at  that  early  period.  On  the  other  hand,  we 
know  that  West  during  the  four  years  he  passed  in  Italy, 
painted  pictures  which  gained  him  academical  honours,  and 
the  applause  of  the  public ; we  know  that  his  copy  of  Corre- 
gio’s  St.  Jerome,  executed  at  Parma,  is  a perfect  specimen 
of  colouring ; and  we  know  that  on  his  arrival  in  England  he 
took  his  stand  immediately  as  the  first  historical  painter  in  the 
kingdom. 

Mengs  and  Pompeo  Battoni  were  at  this  period  the  great 
painters  of  Rome.  Of  the  latter,  in  connection  with  our  sub- 
ject we  have  been  favoured  with  the  followingfrom  Mr.  Allston, 
as  related  to  him  by  Mr.  West.  “ Battoni  was  at  that  time 
‘ in  full  flower,’  dividing  the  empire  of  art  with  Mengs.  He 
received  Mr.  West  very  graciously  in  his  painting  room,  and 
after  some  questions  respecting  his  country,  concerning  which 
he  seemed  to  have  had  no  very  distinct  notion,  —said  “ And  so, 
young  man,  you  have  come- — how  far  is  it?”  “ Three  thou- 
sand miles.”  “ Ay,  three  thousand  miles  from  the  woods  of 
America  to  become  a painter!  You  are  very  fortunate  in 
coming  to  Rome  at  this  time,  for  now  you  shall  see  Battoni 
paint.”  He  thereupon  proceeded  with  his  work  then  in  hand, 
a picture  of  the  Madonna;  occasionally  exclaiming,  as  he 
stept  back,  to  see  the  effect,  “ e viva  Battoni  !” 

Mengs  very  liberally  applauded  the  effort  of  the  young 
artist,  which  had  been  compared  to  his  own  masterly  produc- 
tions, and  traced  out  a plan  for  his  studies  and  travel.  “ See 
and  examine  every  thing  deserving  of  your  attention  here,  and 
after  making  a few  drawings  of  about  half  a dozen  of  the  best 
statues,  go  to  Florence,  and  observe  what  has  been  done  for 
art  in  the  collections  there.  Then  proceed  to  Bologna,  and 
study  the  works  of  the  Caracci ; afterwards  visit  Parma,  and 
examine  attentively  the  pictures  of  Corregio  ; and  then  go  to 
Venice,  and  view  the  productions  of  Tintoretto,  Titian,  and 
Paul  Veronese.  When  you  have  made  this  tour,  come  back 
to  Rome,  and  paint  an  historical  composition  to  be  exhibited  to 
the  Roman  public.” 

The  excitements  of  Rome  produced  fever,  and  before  West 
could  avail  himself  of  this  judicious  advice,  his  friends  and 
physicians  advised  a return  to  Leghorn  for  the  restoration  of 
health.  Here  he  was  received  into  the  hospitable  mansion  of 
Messrs.  Rutherford  and  Jackson,  and  by  their  care,  recovered 
so  far  as  to  return  to  his  studies  in  Rome,  but  was  soon  again 
forced  by  a relapse  to  fly  once  more  to  Leghorn,  when  the 
fever  left  him  with  an  affection  of  the  ancle,  which  threatened 


52 


Wests  good  fortune  and  good  conduct 

the  loss  of  the  limb.  His  constant  friends  Jackson  and  Ruther- 
ford sent  him  to  Florence,  and  placed  him  under  the  care  of  a 
celebrated  surgeon,  who  produced  a radical  cure,  after  a con- 
finement of  eleven  months. 

Even  during  this  season  of  pain  and  disease,  the  artist  pur- 
sued his  studies,  and  was  encouraged  by  the  attentions  of  men 
of  taste  and  influence,  both  natives  and  travellers.  When 
recovered  so  as  to  bear  the  fatigues  of  travelling,  he  had  the 
good  fortune  to  obtain  as  a companion  on  the  tour  recom- 
mended by  Mengs,  a man  of  extraordinary  accomplishments 
and  acquirements.  A gentleman  of  the  name  of  Matthews, 
connected  with  Messrs.  Rutherford  and  Jackson,  visited  Flo- 
rence and  agreed  to  accompany  the  young  painter  in  his  visit 
to  the  most  celebrated  repositories  of  Italian  art. 

In  the  mean  time,  that  good  fortune  which  attended  West’s 
conduct  throughout  life,  was  operating  in  his  favour  on 
the  shores  of  the  western  world.  The  applause  bestowed  on 
the  portrait  of  Mr.  Robinson,  was  mentioned  in  a letter  from 
Rutherford  and  Jackson  to  Mr.  Allen,  of  Philadelphia,  and 
the  letter  read  by  him  to  an  assemblage  of  gentlemen  at  his 
dinner  table,  among  whom  was  Governor  Hamilton.  Allen 
mentioned  the  sum  deposited  with  him,  by  West  before  his 
departure,  adding,  “ as  it  must  be  much  reduced,  he  shall  not 
be  frustrated  in  his  studies  for  want  of  money : I will  write  to 
my  correspondents  to  furnish  him  with  whatever  he  may  re- 
quire.” This  generous  declaration  produced  a demand  from 
the  Governor,  that  “ he  should  be  considered  as  joining  in  the 
responsibility  of  the  credit.”  The  consequence  was,  that 
while  West  was  waiting  at  Florence  for  the  sum  of  ten  pounds 
for  which  he  had  written  to  his  friends  at  Leghorn,  he  received 
notice  from  their  bankers  that  they  were  instructed  to  give  him 
unlimited  credit. 

It  is  not  always  that  talents,  when  backed  by  good  conduct, 
produce  such  effects  upon  mankind  ; and  some  may  perhaps 
exclaim,  ‘‘surely  mankind  are  less  inclined  to  obey  the  gene- 
rous impulses  of  nature  now,  than  they  were  a century  ago.” 
Rut  it  is  not  so.  Talents  ever  command  admiration,  and 
good  conduct  solicits  good  will.  But  both  or  either  may  be 
obscured  by  circumstances.  They  may  exist  separately,  and 
not  be  deserving  of  friendship.  They  may  be  united,  and 
their  effect  destroyed  by  personal  defect  in  the  possessor,  timi- 
dity, false  shame,  false  pride  or  excessive  sensitiveness— -and 
as  far  as  these  defects  have  influence,  the  effects  of  good  con- 
duct are  w eakened,  obscured  or  destroyed.  West  had  talents, 
virtue,  youth,  beauty,  and  prudence.  He  appears  to  have 


53 


West  leaves  Italy . 

possessed  no  quality  to  counteract  their  influence,  and  circum- 
stances independent  of  his  own  good  qualities  seemed  uniformly 
to  favour  his  progress. 

From  Florence  Mr.  West  proceeded  to  Bologna,  and  after 
inspecting  the  works  of  art,  he  went  on  to  Venice.  Here  the 
style  and  colouring  of  Titian  were  his  principal  study.  After 
completing  the  tour  recommended  by  Mengs,  he  returned  to 
Rome,  and  pursued  his  studies  again  in  that  great  center  of 
taste.  He  at  this  time  painted  his  pictures  of  Cimon  and 
Iphigenia,  and  Angelica  and  Medora.  These  established  his 
reputation  as  an  historical  painter,  and  obtained  him  the  aca- 
demical honours  of  Rome. 

By  the  advice  of  his  father  he  determined  to  visit  England 
before  returning  home,  and  again  he  had  the  advantage  of 
travelling  with  a man  of  taste  and  refinement,  Dr.  Patoune, 
who  was  returning  to  Great  Britain.  The  doctor  proceeded 
to  Florence,  while  the  painter  went  to  take  leave  of  his  friends 
at  Leghorn.  The  travellers  afterwards  stopped  at  Parma, 
while  West  finished  his  copy  of  St.  Jerome.  This  beautiful 
picture  is  in  the  possession  of  the  family  of  Mr.  Allen,  one  of 
the  painter’s  earliest  friends,  and  in  America.  Here  again  the 
novelty  of  an  American  quaker  painter  procured  him  the  atten- 
tion of  the  great ; and  the  friend  kept  on  his  broad  brim 
when  introduced  to  the  court  of  Parma,  very  much  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  prince  and  his  courtiers — perhaps  not  a 
little  to  their  amusement. 

Genoa  and  Turin  were  taken  in  the  route  to  France,  and 
the  peace  of  1763  having  been  but  lately  concluded,  the  tra- 
vellers as  Englishmen,  were  only  protected  by  a magistrate 
from  a mob,  who  had  not  yet  ratified  the  treaty.  In  Paris, 
West  visited,  as  every  where  else,  the  collections  of  paintings 
and  sculptures,  but  the  inferiority  of  France  to  Italy  was  at 
that  time  more  apparent  than  at  this,  and  the  American  had 
little  to  learn  in  Paris,  who  had  studied  in,  and  gained  the 
approbation  of  the  academies  of  Italy, 


54 


West  in  "England , 


CHAPTER  IV. 


West  in  England,  1763— Cunningham’s  life  of  West— Costume  of  an  Indian 
Warrior — West’s  great  success,  and  the  friendship  of  George  the  Third — 
West  at  his  esel— His  pupils — Not  a quaker  in  dress  or  manner — Declines  the 
title  and  supposed  honours  of  knighthood — General  impression  that  he  had 
been  knighted — Envy  and  jealousy  manifested  towards  him — Allston’s  feeling 
towards  him— He  visits  France. 

On  the  20th  of  June,  1763,  West  arrived  in  London.  He 
had  while  in  Rome,  painted  his  pictures  of  Cimon  and  Iphi- 
genia,  and  Angelica  and  Medora,  and  proved  that  he  needed 
no  longer  the  instruction  of  modern  Italy.  Raphael  he  would 
■willingly  have  studied  all  his  life,  if  Raphael  could  have  been 
transported  by  him  to  the  land  in  which  he  was  to  abide.  He 
says,  “ Michael  Angelo  has  not  succeeded  in  giving  a probable 
character  to  any  of  his  works,  the  Moses,  perhaps,  excepted. 
The  works  of  Raphael  grow  daily  more  interesting,  natural 
and  noble.” 

Wherever  West  went,  circumstances  combined  for  his  advan- 
tage. His  friends,  Allen,  Hamilton,  and  Smith  had  arrived 
before  him  in  London,  and  received  him  with  joy  and  triumph. 
The  portrait  of  Governor  Hamilton,  painted  at  this  time,  is 
in  Philadelphia  now.  Thus  he  found  warm  friends  ready  to 
introduce  him  to  the  best  and  most  powerful  of  the  land  of  his 
fathers.  His  merit  insured  him  a favourable  reception,  and 
he  was  soon  induced  to  determine  upon  taking  rooms,  and 
trying  to  establish  himself  as  an  historical  painter  in  the  metro- 
polis of  England. 

The  state  of  the  art  of  painting  in  that  country,  is  thus 
described  by  Mr.  Cunningham  : “ Reynolds  was  devoted  to 
portraits.  Hogarth  was  on  the  brink  of  the  grave ; Barry 
engaged  in  controversaries  in  Rome  ; Wilson  neglected  ; 
Gainsborough’s  excellence  lay  in  landscape  ; — ” Wilson  men- 
tioned above  only  painted  landscape  ; Hogarth’s  genius  led 
him  into  another  path  : the  heroic  had  no  charms  for  him,  and 
th ebeau  ideal  was  probably  unknown  and  unfelt— simple  every- 
day nature  satisfied  him,  he  worshipped  her,  and  the  goddess 
smiled  upon  him.  In  fact  England  had  no  distinguished  his- 
torical painter,  and  circumstances  again  placed  West  where  he 
was  formed  best  to  thrive. 


State  of  historical  painting . 5 5 

In  a work  called  “ The  Percy  Anecdotes,”  it  is  said,  that 
on  the  arrival  of  Mr.  West  in  England,  he  “ soon  displayed 
his  powers  in  historical  painting,  in  a most  excellent  picture ; 
the  subject  was  that  of  Pylades  and  Orestes,  one  of  his  very 
best  works.”  The  author  dilates  on  the  curiosity  excited  and 
the  admiration  elicited  by  the  work,  and  proceeds,  “but  the 
most  wonderful  part  of  the  story  is,  that  notwithstanding  all 
this  vast  bustle  and  commendation  bestowed  upon  this  justly 
admired  picture,  by  which,  Mr.  West’s  servant  gained  up- 
wards of  thirty  pounds  for  showing  it,  no  mortal  ever  asked 
the  price  of  the  work,  or  so  much  as  offered  to  give  him  a 
commission  to  paint  any  other  subject.  Indeed  there  was  one 
gentleman,  who  was  so  highly  delighted  with  the  picture,  and 
spoke  of  it  with  such  great  praise  to  his  father,  that  the  latter 
immediately  asked  him  the  reason  he  did  not  purchase  what  he 
so  much  admired  ; when  he  answered,  “ What  could  I do,  if 
I had  it  ? You  would  not  surely  have  me  hang  up  a modern 
English  picture  in  my  house,  unless  it  was  a portrait  ?” 

This  is  a good  satire  upon  those  who  buy  up  old  pictures, 
and  despise  the  efforts  of  artists  who  are  producing  excellent 
works  in  their  presence. 

We  will  here  quote  a passage  from  a letter  of  Mr.  Leslie’s  : 
“ The  following  account  of  the  commencement  of  Mr.  West’s 
career  in  London  I had  from  Sir  George  Beaumont  ; as  I 
have  not  either  Galt’s  or  Allen  Cunningham’s  life  of  West  by 
me,  I do  not  know  whether  or  not  they  have  related  it  in  the 
same  way.  When  Mr.  West  arrived  in  London,  the  general 
opinion  was  so  unfavourable  to  modern  art,  that  it  was  scarcely 
thought  possible  for  an  artist  to  paint  an  historical  or  fancy 
picture  worthy  to  hang  up  beside  the  old  masters.  Hogarth 
had  produced  his  matchless  pictures  in  vain.  The  connoisseur 
who  would  have  ventured  to  place  the  inimitable  scenes  of  the 
“ Marriage  a la  mode,”  on  his  walls,  (I  mean  the  pictures, 
the  prints  were  in  great  request,)  would  have  hazarded  most 
fearfully  his  reputation  for  taste.  This  prejudice  against  living 
genius  continued  until  the  arrival  of  West,  and  it  must  have 
required  some  courage  in  a young  man  at  that  time  to  make 
his  appearance  in  England,  in  the  character  of  an  historical 
painter.  One  of  the  first  pictures,  if  not  the  very  first  he  pro- 
duced, was  from  the  story  of  Pylades  and  Orestes,  (there  is  an 
admirable  copy  of  it  in  this  country,  painted  by  Mr.  Sully.) 
This  picture  attracted  so  much  attention,  that  Mr.  West’s  ser- 
vant was  employed  from  morning  till  night  in  opening  the 
door  to  visiters,  and  the  man  received  a considerable  sum  of 
money  by  showing  it,  while  the  master  was  obliged  to  content 


56 


Sir  George  Beaumont. 

himself  with  empty  praise.  All  admired,  but  no  one  dared  to 
buy  it.  It  was  curious  enough,  however,  that  the  reputation 
of  this  picture  raised  him  into  high  favour  as  a portrait  painter, 
for  portrait  painters  were  employed.  I know  not  how  long 
the  picture  remained  on  the  artist’s  hands,  but  when  I first 
saw  it,  it  was  in  the  collection  of  Sir  George  Beaumont.  He 
gave  it  with  nearly  all  his  pictures  to  the  government,  who 
were  induced  by  so  magnificent  a present  to  purchase  the 
Angerstein  collection,  and  united  the  two,  to  form  a National 
Gallery.  Hogarth’s  merit  as  a painter  is  now  acknowledged, 
and  the  six  pictures  of  the  44  Marriage  a la  mode,”  were  hang- 
ing in  the  same  room  with  the  44  Pylades  and  Orestes”  when 
I left  London.” 

Those  who  have  read  Cunningham’s  Lives  of  Painters,  (and 
that  is  all  readers  of  taste,)  will  know  something  of  Sir  George 
Beaumont ; for  he  was  not  only  a man  of  the  highest  stand- 
ing in  fortune  and  fashion,  but  he  was  a painter.  He  was 
truly  a patron,  not  only  of  the  art,  but  of  individuals  who  had 
merit  and  wanted  assistance  ; he  was  the  protector,  supporter, 
adviser,  of  the  poor  youth  who  evinced  genius,  but  had  not 
the  means  of  procuring  the  instruction  necessary  to  his  well- 
doing. Jackson,  one  of  the  greatest  portrait  painters  England 
boasts,  was  an  apprentice  to  a tailor.  His  talent  for  drawing 
gained  him  the  attention  of  Lord  Mulgrave,  who  happened  to 
reside  near  him  in  Yorkshire;  his  Lordship  and  Sir  George 
Beaumont  purchased  the  lad’s  freedom  from  the  shop-board 
and  the  goose,  and  he  immediately  presented  himself  as  if  by 
instinct,  before  Beaumont  in  London,  and  expressed  his  wish 
to  study  in  the  Royal  Academy  : 44  You  have  done  wisely,” 
said  Sir  George,  44  London  is  the  place  for  talents  such  as 
yours.”  He  then  gave  him  a plan  of  study  and  concluded, 
44  To  enable  you  to  do  all  this,  you  shall  have  fifty  pounds  a 
year  while  you  are  a student,  and  live  in  my  house  ; you  will 
soon  require  no  aid.”  This  is  the  patronage  of  friendship, 
the  protection  of  the  rich,  the  good,  and  the  wise,  afforded  to 
the  meritorious  poor,  seeking  support  and  instruction. 

Mr.  West  sent  his  pictures  of  Angelica  and  Medora,  Cimon 
and  Iphigenia  and  others  finished  since  his  arrival,  to  the 
public  exhibition  room,  at  that  time,  in  Spring  Garden.  His 
success  was  complete,  and  he  attracted  the  notice  44  of  some  of 
the  dignitaries  of  the  church.  He  painted  for  Dr.  Newton  the 
parting  of  Hector  and  Andromache,— and  for  the  bishop  of 
Worcester,  the  Return  of  the  Prodigal  Son.  His  reputation 
rose  so  much  with  these  productions,  that  Lord  Rockingham 
tempted  him  with  the  offer  of  a permanent  engagement,  and  a 


57 


W est’s  marriage . 

salary  of  seven  hundred  pounds  a year,  to  embellish  with  his- 
torical paintings  his  mansion  in  Yorkshire.  West  consulted 
his  friends  concerning  this  alluring  oiler — they  were  sensible 
men — they  advised  him  to  confide  in  the  public:  and  he  fol- 
lowed, for  a time,  their  salutary  counsel. 

“ This  successful  beginning,  and  the  promise  of  full  employ- 
ment, induced  him  to  resolve  on  remaining  in  the  Old  Country. 
But  he  was  attached  to  a young  lady  in  his  native  land — 
absence  had  augmented  his  regard,  anti  he  wished  to  return  to 
Philadelphia,  marry  her,  and  bring  her  to  England.  He  dis- 
closed the  state  of  his  affections  to  his  friends,  Smith  and  Allen  ; 
those  gentlemen  took  a less  romantic  view  of  tiie  matter,  ad- 
vised the  artist  to  stick  to  his  esel,  and  arranged  the  whole 
so  prudently,  that  the  lady  came  to  London  accompanied  by 
a relation  whose  time  was  not  so  valuable  as  West’s — and  they 
were  married  on  the  2d  of  September,  1765,  in  the  church  of 
St.  Martin’s  in  the  Fields.” 

This  relation  was  West’s  father,  Miss  Shewed  having  agreed 
to  leave  America  on  that  condition.  “ The  venerable  figure 
of  the  old  quaker  is  conspicuous  in  Penn’s  treaty,  in  the  family 
picture  of  West,  and  in  a large  allegorical  painting  in  St. 
George’s  Hospital,  London.  The  reasons  given  by  West 
for  not  crossing  the  Atlanticyappeared  sufficient  in  the  eyes 
of  his  betrothed  and  her  friends,  and  unlike  the  bride  of  a 
king,  she  came  to  the  youth  who  had  gained  her  heart,  accom- 
panied by  his  father,  and  was  united  to  the  man  who  in  her  last 
stage  of  life,  she  declared  to  have  been  all  his  days  without 
fault.  On  receiving  from  Mr.  Leslie  the  anecdote  of  Benjamin 
West’s  oldest  brother,  left  in  England  as  above  related, 
and  first  seen  by  his  father  at  the  age  of  forty,  I inquired  of 
my  excellent  correspondent  for  his  authority,  he  answered, 
“ The  information  respecting  Mr.  West’s  elder  brother,  I had 
from  a quarter  I can  thoroughly  rely  on.  It  was  given  me  by 
my  venerable  friend  William  Dillwyer,  a quaker  gentleman 
and  a native  of  Philadelphia.  He  had  known  Mr.  West  from 
his  youth,  and  indeed  I think  their  acquaintance  commenced 
before  either  of  them  left  America.  Raphael  West/emembers 
his  grandfather  and  uncle,  and  confirms  Mr.  Dillwyer’s  ac- 
count of  the  latter  being  a watch-maker  and  settled  at  Read- 
ing. Mr.  Dillwyer  was  intimate  with  Wilberforce  and  Clark- 
son, and  took  an  active  part  with  them  in  their  great  work  of 
the  abolition  ol  the  slave  trade.  He  told  me  that  Mr.  West 
accommodated  the  committees  with  the  use  of  his  larare  rooms 

O 

in  Newman-street.  Raphael  West  remembers  his  grandfather 
as  being  very  neat  in  his  dress.  Mr.  West  told  me  that  on 


58 


Filial  piety,  and  criticism  of  George  the  Fourth . 

asking  the  old  gentleman  how  he  was  struck  with  the  appear- 
ance of  London  after  his  long  absence,  he  replied,  4 The 
streets  and  houses  look  very  much  as  they  did,  but  can  thee 
tell  me,  my  son,  what  has  become  of  all  the  Englishmen  ? When 
I left  England  forty  years  since,  the  men  were  generally  a 
portly,  comely  race,  with  ample  garments,  and  large  flowing 
wigs;  rather  slow  in  their  movements,  and  grave  and  digni- 
fied in  their  deportment : — but  now,  they  are  docked  and 
cropped,  and  skipping  about  in  scanty  clothes,  like  so  many 
monkeys.’  ” “ I believe,”  continues  Mr.  Leslie,  44  Mr.  West 

has  introduced  the  portraits  of  his  father,  and  half  brother  in 
his  picture  of  Penn’s  treaty.  This  picture  is  in  the  possession 
of  John  Penn,  Esq.  of  Stike,  the  lineal  descendant  of  William 
Penn.  Mr.  West  told  me  that  he  introduced  his  father  and 
some  other  quakers  from  Philadelphia  to  a private  audience 
with  George  the  Third  at  the  request  of  the  king.  On  this 
occasion,  the  Prince  of  Wales  remarked,  rather  irreverently 
that  4 the  king  had  always  been  fond  of  quakers  ever  since  he 

kept  that  little  quaker  w — .’  ” 

This  is  a specimen  of  the  44  finest  gentleman  in  England” — - 
We  give  another,  connected  with  West,  when  this  fine  gentle- 
man was  George  the  Fourth.  44  An  anecdote  connected  with 
Benjamin  West  has  just  occurred  to  my  memory,”  says  Les- 
lie, 44 1 cannot  vouch  for  its  truth,  but  it  was  current  among 
the  artists,  and  I think  it  highly  probable  that  it  is  true.  You 
most  likely  know  that  one  room  in  Windsor  Castle  is  entirely 
filled  with  his  pictures,  consisting  of  a series  of  subjects  from 
the  history  of  Edward  the  Third  ; the  surrender  of  Calais  ; 
the  battles  of  Cressy  and  Poictiers,  the  Installation  of  the 
knights  of  the  garter,  &c.  &c.  George  the  Fourth,  who 
amused  himself  during  the  last  years  of  his  life  in  making  al- 
terations in  the  castle,  took  it  into  his  head  to  consign  all  these 
pictures  to  the  lumber-room.  Fortunately,  however,  he  con- 
sulted Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  on  the  subject.  Lawrence  who 
was  considered  in  general  to  be  sufficiently  complaisant  to  his 
majesty,  had  the  courage  on  this  occasion  to  differ  from  him, 
and  told  him  he  thought  these  pictures  formed  a most  appro- 
priate ornament  to  the  castle,  and  that  if  they  were  removed, 
there  was  no  living  artist  capable  of  supplying  their  place 
with  similar  subjects  ! His  opinion  saved  the  pictures.” 

44  In  portraits,”  says  an  English  author,  44  we  saw  Reynolds 
rise  eminently  superior,  while  West  chose  for  the  exercise  of 
his  pencil  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  antiquity.”  44  Struck 
with  the  superior  merits  of  an  historical  design  by  Mr.  West, 
then  a very  young  man,  his  majesty  commissioned  him  to 


59 


West's  early  works  in  England , 

paint  a composition  for  the  royal  collection,  and  with  that  deli- 
cate consideration,  that  unites  the  true  gentleman  with  the 
patron,  left  the  subject  to  the  painter’s  choice.  Mr.  West  se- 
lected one  of  the  most  interesting  events  in  ancient  history, 
and  produced  a picture  which,  added  to  a knowledge  of  all 
the  executive  properties  of  painting,  exhibited  a pathos  worthy 
of  the  awful  dignity  of  the  story.  Regulus,  a Roman  general, 
prisoner  to  the  Carthaginians,  and  then  on  his  parole  at  Rome 
had  patriotically  determined  to  return  to  captivity,  and  sacri- 
fice his  life  for  the  benefit  of  his  country.  The  moment  chosen 
is,  when  surrounded  by  his  supplicating  friends,  and  rejecting 
their  entreaties,  he  is  resigning  himself  to  the  ambassadors  of 
Carthage.  The  excellence  of  the  picture,  for  which  his  ma- 
jesty gave  the  artist  one  thousand  guineas,  is  the  best  com- 
ment on  the  judgment  of  his  royal  employer.  One  apartment 
in  Buckingham  House  was  afterwards  entirely  appropriated  to 
productions  from  the  pencil  of  Mr.  West.  Among  these  are 
the  death  of  General  Wolfe ; the  death  of  Chevalier  Bayard  ; 
and  perhaps  the  finest  of  all,  Hamilcar  swearing  the  infant 
Hannibal  at  the  altar.” 

“ Dr.  Drummond,  the  Archbishop  of  York,  a dignified  and 
liberal  prelate,  and  an  admirer  of  painting,  invited  West  to 
his  table,  conversed  with  him  on  the  influence  of  art,  and  on 
the  honour  which  the  patronage  of  genius  reflected  on  the 
rich,  and  opening  Tacitus,  pointed  out  that  fine  passage  where 
Agrippina  lands  with  the  ashes  of  Germanicus.  He  caused 
his  son  to  read  it  again  and  again,  commented  upon  it  with 
taste  and  feeling,  and  requested  West  to  make  him  a painting 
of  that  subject.  The  artist  went  home,  it  was  then  late,  but 
before  closing  his  eyes  he  formed  a sketch,  and  carried  it  early 
next  morning  to  his  patron,  who,  glad  to  see  that  his  own 
notions  were  likely  to  be  embodied  in  lasting  colours,  requested 
that  the  full  size  work  might  be  proceeded  with.  Nor  was 
this  all' — that  munificent  prelate  proposed  to  raise  three  thou- 
sand pounds  by  subscription,  to  enable  West  to  relinquish 
likenesses,  and  give  his  whole  time  and  talents  to  historical 
painting.  Fifteen  hundred  pounds  were  accordingly  sub- 
scribed by  bimself  and  his  friends ; but  the  public  refused  to 
co-operate,  and  the  scheme  was  abandoned. 

“ The  archbishop  regarded  the  failure  of  this  plan  as  a 
stigma  on  the  country;  his  self-love  too  was  offended.  He 
disregarded  alike  the  coldness  of  the  duke  ofPortland  and  the 
evasions  of  Lord  Rockingham,  to  whom  he  communicated  his 
scheme — sought  and  obtained  an  audience  of  his  majesty,  then 
young  and  unacquainted  with  cares — informed  him  that  a de- 


60 


West's  first  interview  with  George  the  Third , 

vout  American  and  quaker  had  painted,  at  his  request,  such  a 
noble  picture  that  he  was  desirous  to  secure  his  talents  for  the 
throne  and  the  country.  The  king  w as  much  interested  with 
the  story,  and  said,  4 Let  me  see  this  young  painter  of  yours 
with  his  Agrippina  as  soon  as  you  please.’  The  prelate  retired 
to  communicate  his  success  to  West.”  A gentleman  came  from 
the  palace  to  request  West’s  attendance  with  the  picture  of 
Agrippina.  4 His  majesty,’  said  the  messenger,  ‘is  a young 
man  of  great  simplicity  and  candour  ; sedate  in  his  affections, 
scrupulous  in  forming  private  friendships,  good  from  prineipje, 
and  pure  from  a sense  of  the  beauty  of  virtue.’  Forty  years 
intercourse,  we  might  almost  say  friendship,  confirmed  to  the 
painter  the  accurac}^  of  these  words. 

“The  king  received  West  with  easy  frankness,  assisted  him 
to  place  the  Agrippina  in  a favourable  light,  removed  the  at- 
tendants, and  brought  in  the  queen,  to  whom  he  presented  our 
quaker.  He  related  to  her  majesty  the  history  of  the  picture, 
and  bade  her  notice  the  simplicity  of  the  design  and  the  beauty 
of  the  colouring.  ‘ There  is  another  noble  Roman  subject,’ 
observed  his  Majesty,  ‘ the  departure  of  Regulus  from  Rome — 
would  it  not  make  a fine  picture  ?’  ‘ It  is  a magnificent  sub- 

ject,’ said  the  painter.  ‘Then,’  said  the  king,  ‘you  shall 
paint  it  for  me.’  He  turned  with  a smile  to  the  queen,  and 
said,  ‘ The  archbishop  made  one  of  his  sons  read  Tacitus  to 
Air.  West,  but  I will  read  Livy  to  him  myself— that  part  where 
he  describes  the  departure  of  Regulus.’  So  saying,  he  read 
the  passage  very  gracefully,  and  then  repeated  his  command 
that  the  picture  should  be  painted. 

“ West  was  too  prudent  not  to  wish  to  retain  the  sovereign’s 
good  opinion — and  his  modesty  and  his  merit  deserved  if. 
The  palace-doors  now  seemed  to  open  of  their  own  accord, 
and  the  domestics  attended  with  an  obedient  start  to  the  w ishes 
of  him  w hom  the  king  delighted  to  honour.  There  are  minor 
matters  which  sometimes  help  a man  on  to  fame;  and  in  these 
too  he  had  his  share.  West  was  a skilful  skater,  and  in  Ame- 
rica had  formed  an  acquaintance  on  the  ice  with  Colonel, 
afterward  too  well  known  in  the  colonial  war  as  General 
Howe  ; this  friendship  had  dissolved  with  t lie  thaw,  and  was 
forgotten,  till  one  day  the  painter,  having  tied  on  his  skates  at 
the  Serpentine,  w as  astonishing  the  timid  practitioners  of  Lon- 
don by  the  rapidity  of  his  motions  and  the  graceful  figure 
which  he  cut.  Some  one  cried  4 West ! W est !’  it  w as  Colonel 
Howe.  4 I am  glad  to  see  you,’  said  he,  ‘and  not  the  less  so 
that  you  come  in  good  time  to  vindicate  my  praises  of  American 
skating.’  He  called  to  him  Lord  Spencer  Hamilton  and 


61 


1 Vest's  skating. 

some  of  the  Cavendishes,  to  whom  he  introduced  West  as  one 
of  the  Philadelphia  prodigies,  and  requested  him  to  show  them 
what  was  called  ‘ The  Salute.’  He  performed  his  feat  so  much 
to  their  satisfaction,  that  they  went  away  spreading  the  praises 
of  the  American  skater  over  London.  Nor  was  the  consi- 
derate quaker  insensible  to  the  value  of  such  commendations ; 
he  continued  to  frequent  the  Serpentine  and  to  gratify  large 
crowds  by  cutting  the  Philadelphia  Salute.  Many  to  their 
praise  of  his  skating  added  panegyrics  on  his  professional 
skill,  and  not  a few,  to  vindicate  their  applause,  followed  him 
to  his  esel,  and  sat  For  their  portraits.” 

More  than  twenty  years  after,  the  writer  skated  with  the 
great  painter  and  his  oldest  son  on  the  Serpentine,  and  West 
was  the  best,  though  not  the  most  active  then  on  the  ice. 

The  ‘ Departure  of  Regulus’  placed  Benjamin  West  on 
the  throne  of  English  art.’  Thus  a youth,  by  the  force  of 
talent,  guided  by  prudence,  found  himself  at  the  pinnacle  he 
aimed  at,  when,  as  a child,  he  read  in  Richardson  and  Du  Fres- 
noy  of  painters  who  were  cherished  and  honoured  by  kings. 

In  a late  publication,  The  Cabinet  of  Natural  History,  pub- 
lished 1830,  by  Doughty,  Philadelphia,  West  has  been  repre- 
sented to  his  country,  by  one  of  his  most  favoured  pupils,  as  a 
man  of  moderate  genius,  arriving  at  excellence  by  perseve- 
rance and  industry.  Perseverance  and  industry  in  well-doing 
cannot  be  too  much  praised.  West  was  industrious  and  perse- 
vering. But  God  had  endowed  him  with  uncommon  physical 
and  mental  powers;  and  those  powers  were  not  only  fitted  for 
the  art  he  loved,  but  circumstances  of  a peculiar  nature  turned 
the  course  of  his  genius  into  the  track  leading  to  brilliant 
excellence.  It  would  appear  from  this  publication,  that 
West’s  success  was  only  derived  from  persevering  indus- 
try ; but  the  fact  of  West’s  complete  success  at  the  age 
of  twenty-five,  when  perseverance  and  industry  had  not  had 
time  to  do  more  for  him  than  for  hundreds  of  his  pupils,  con- 
tradicts this  assertion. 

“ While  West  w as  painting  the  ‘ Departure  of  Regulus,’  the 
present  Royal  Academy  was  planned.  The  Society  of  Incor- 
porated Artists,  of  w hich  he  was  a member,  had  grow  n rich 
by  yearly  exhibitions,  and  how  to  lay  out  this  mone}r  became 
the  subject  of  vehement  debate.  The  architects  were  for 
a house,  the  sculptors  for  statues,  and  the  painters  propo- 
sed a large  gallery  for  historical  works,  while  a mean  and 
sordid  member  or  two  voted  to  let  it  lie  and  grow  more,  for  it 
w as  pleasant  to  see  riches  accumulate.  West,  who  happened 
to  be  a director,  approved  o(  none  of  these  notions,  and  with 


62 


English  Royal  Academy . 

Reynolds  withdrew  from  the  association.  The  newspapers  of 
the  day  noticed  these  indecent  bickerings ; and  the  king, 
learning  the  cause  from  the  lips  of  West,  declared  that  he  was 
ready  to  patronize  any  association  formed  on  principles  calcu- 
lated to  advance  the  interests  of  art.  A plan  was  proposed 
by  some  of  the  dissenters,  and  submitted  to  his  majesty,  who 
corrected  it,  and  drew  up  some  additional  articles  with  his  own 
hand. 

“ Meanwhile  the  incorporated  artists  continued  their  debates, 
in  total  ignorance  that  their  dissenting  brethren  were  laying 
the  foundation  of  a surer  structure  than  their  own.  Kirby, 
teacher  of  perspective  to  the  king,  had  been  chosen  president: 
but  so  secretly  was  all  managed,  that  he  had  never  heard  a 
whisper  in  the  palace  concerning  the  new  academy,  and  in  his 
inaugural  address  from  the  chair,  he  assured  his  companions 
that  his  majesty  would  not  countenance  the  schismatics. 
While  West  was  one  day  busy  with  his  Regulus,  the  king 
and  queen  looking  on,  Kirby  was  announced,  and  his  ma- 
jesty having  consulted  his  consort  in  German,  admitted  him, 
and  introduced  him  to  West,  to  whose  person  he  was  a stran- 
ger. He  looked  at  the  picture,  praised  it  warmly,  and  con- 
gratulated the  artist;  then,  turning  to  the  king,  said,  4 Your 
majesty  never  mentioned  any  thing  of  this  work  to  me ; who 
made  the  frame  ? it  is  not  made  by  one  of  your  majesty’s 
workmen  ; it  ought  to  have  been  made  by  the  royal  carver  and 
gilder.’  To  this  impertinence  the  king  answered,  with  great 
calmness,  4 Kirby,  whenever  you  are  able  to  paint  me  such  a 
picture  as  this,  your  friend  shall  make  the  frame.’  4 1 hope, 
Mr.  West,’  said  Kirby,  4 that  you  intend  to  exhibit  this  pic- 
ture ?’  4 It  is  painted  for  the  palace,’  said  West,  4 and  its  exhi- 
bition must  depend  upon  his  majesty’s  pleasure.’  4 Assuredly,’ 
said  the  king,  4 1 shall  be  very  happy  to  let  the  work  be  shown 
to  the  public.’  4 Then,  Mr.  West,’  said  Kirby,  ‘you  will 
send  it  to  my  exhibition.’  4 No!’  interrupted  his  majesty,  4 it 
must  go  to  my  exhibition — to  that  of  the  Royal  Academy.’ 
The  president  of  the  associated  artists  bowed  with  much  hu- 
mility and  retired.  He  did  not  long  survive  this  mortification, 
and  his  death  was  imputed  by  the  founders  of  the  new  acade- 
my to  jealousy  of  their  rising  establishment,  but  by  those  who 
knew  him  well,  to  a more  ordinary  cause,  the  decay  of  nature. 
The  Royal  Academy  was  founded,  and  in  its  first  exhibition 
appeared  the  Regulus. 

44 A change  was  now  to  be  effected  in  the  character  of  British 
art ; hitherto  historical  painting  had  appeared  in  a masking 
habit : the  actions  of  Englishmen  seemed  all  to  have  been  per- 


63 


West's  Death  of  Wolfe. 

formed,  if  costume  were  to  be  believed,  by  Greeks  or  by  Ro- 
mans. West  dismissed  at  once  this  pedantry,  and  restored 
nature  and  propriety  in  his  noble  work  of  4 The  Death  of 
Wolfe.’  The  multitude  acknowledged  its  excellence  at  once. 
The  lovers  of  old  art,  the  manufacturers  of  compositions  called 
by  courtesy  classical,  complained  of  the  barbarism  of  boots, 
buttons,  and  blunderbuses,  and  cried  out  for  naked  warriors, 
with  bows,  bucklers,  and  battering  rams.  Lord  Grosvenor, 
disregarding  the  frowns  of  the  amateurs,  and  the,  at  best,  cold 
approbation  of  the  Academy,  purchased  this  work,  which,  in 
spite  of  laced  coats  and  cocked  hats,  is  one  of  the  best  of  our 
historical  pictures.  The  Indian  warrior,  watching  the  dying 
hero,  to  see  if  he  equalled  in  fortitude  the  children  of  the  de- 
serts, is  a fine  stroke  of  nature  and  poetry. 

“The  king  questioned  West  concerning  the  picture,  and  put 
him  on  his  defence  of  this  new  heresy  in  art.  To  the  curio- 
sity of  Galt  we  owe  the  sensible  answer  of  West  :—4  When  it 
was  understood,’  said  the  artist,  4 that  I intended  to  paint  the 
characters  as  they  had  actually  appeared  on  the  scene,  the 
Archbishop  of  York  called  on  Reynolds,  and  asked  his  opi- 
nion ; they  both  came  to  my  house  to  dissuade  me  from  running 
so  great  a risk.  Reynolds  began  a very  ingenious  and  elegant 
dissertation  on  the  state  of  the  public  taste  in  this  country,  and 
the  danger  which  every  innovation  incurred  of  contempt  and  ri- 
dicule, and  concluded  by  urging  me  earnestly  to  adopt  the  cos- 
tume of  antiquity,  as  more  becoming  the  greatness  of  my  subject 
than  the  modern  garb  of  European  warriors.  I answered,  that 
the  event  to  be  commemorated  happened  in  the  year  1758,  in 
a region  of  the  world  unknown  to  Greeks  and  Romans,  and 
at  a period  of  time  when  no  warriors  who  wore  such  costume 
existed.  The  subject  I have  to  represent  is  a great  battle 
fought  and  won,  and  the  same  truth  which  gives  law  to  the 
historian  should  rule  the  painter.  If  instead  of  the  facts  of  the 
action  I introduce  fictions,  how  shall  l be  understood  by  pos- 
terity ? The  classic  dress  is  certainly  picturesque,  but  by 
using  it  I shall  lose  in  sentiment  what  I gain  in  external  grace. 
I want  to  mark  the  place,  the  time,  and  the  people,  and  to  do 
this  I must  abide  by  truth.  They  went  away  then,  and  returned 
again  when  I had  the  painting  finished.  Reynolds  seated  him- 
self before  the  picture,  examined  it  with  deep  and  minute  atten- 
tion for  half  an  hour  ; then  rising,  said  to  Drummond,  4 West 
has  conquered  ; he  has  treated  his  subject  as  it  ought  to  be 
treated  ; I retract  my  objections.  1 foresee  that  this  picture 
will  not  only  become  one  of  the  most  popular,  but  will  occasion 
a revolution  in  art.’  4 1 wish,’  said  the  king,  4 that  I had  known 


64 


Col.  Henry  Laurens  and  West. 

all  this  before,  for  the  objection  has  been  the  means  oF  Lord 
GrosvenorV  getting  the  picture,  but  you  shall  make  a copy 
for  me.’  ” 

From  the  following  anecdote,  communicated  by  my  friend 
Charles  Fraser,  Esq.,  it  will  appear  that  West,  notwithstand- 
ing his  acquaintance  with  the  savages  of  Pennsylvania,  who 
first  made  him  master  of  red  and  yellow  pigments  to  combine 
with  the  contents  of  his  mother’s  indigo-bag — notwithstand- 
ing his  familiarity  with  the  Indians,  who  visited  the  early  set- 
tlers, and  brought  their  baskets  to  exchange  for  the  Eu- 
ropean wares  of  their  quaker  neighbours,  notwithstand- 
ing all  this  intercourse  with  American  savages,  he  was  unac- 
quainted with  the  peculiar  toilette  of  the  warrior,  when  arrayed 
for  the  exercise  of  the  tomahawk  and  the  scalping-knife.  West 
not  having  seen  an  Indian  in  his  war-dress,  (although  Mr. 
Cunningham  has  made  him  lead  a “ select  body  of  Indians” 
on  a war  expedition  into  the  wilderness,  as  we  have  seen 
above*)  notwithstanding  his  desire  to  represent  the  true  cos- 
tume of  the  figures  introduced  as  present  at  the  Death  of 
Wolfe,  erred  through  ignorance  of  the  Indian  warrior’s  ap- 
pearance on  the  field  of  battle.  “ When  Col.  Henry  Laurens,” 
says  Mr.  Fraser,  “ was  in  London  during  the  American  war  of 
the  revolution,  Mr.  West  showed  him  the  picture  of  the  Death  of 
General  Wolfe.  After  admiring  it,  he  asked  the  artist’s  per- 
mission to  make  one  criticism  on  it,  which,  however,  was  not 
connected  with  its  merits  as  a work  of  art.  He  then  observed 
that  the  Indian  on  the  front  ground  was  represented  with  naked 
feet;  whereas  an  Indian  warrior  was  never  known  to  go  into 
battle  without  his  moccasins,  they  being  considered  a neces- 
sary part  of  his  military  equipment.  This  information  came 
with  authority  from  one  who  had  himself  served  against  the 
American  Indians.  Mr.  West  expressed  much  regret  at  his 
ignorance  of  the  fact,  but  it  was  too  late  to  make  any  altera- 
tion in  the  picture. 

“ West  had  now  obtained  the  personal  confidence  of  the 
king  and  the  favour  of  the  public  ; his  commissions  were  nu- 
merous, but  of  course  the  works  for  the  palace  had  precedence. 
His  majesty  employed  him  to  paint  the  death  of  Epaminondas, 
as  a companion  to  that  of  Wolfe,  the  death  of  the  Chevalier 
Bayard,  Cyrus  liberating  the  family  of  the  king  of  Armenia, 
and  Segestes  and  his  daughter  brought  before  Germanicus.” 

Established  as  the  favourite  painter  of  the  king  of  Great 
Britain,  Mr.  West  suggested  to  the  king  a series  of  pictures  on 
the  progress  of  revealed  religion  : a splendid  oratory  was  pro- 
jected for  their  reception,  and  half-a-dozen  dignitaries  of  the 


65 


A great  work  for  the  King's  chapel. 

church  were  summoned  to  consider  the  propriety  of  introducing 
paintings  into  a place  of  worship.  ‘ When  I reflect,’  said  the 
king,  ‘ that  the  Reformation  condemned  religious  paintings  in 
churches,  and  that  the  parliament  in  the  unhappy  days  of 
Charles  the  First  did  the  same,  I am  fearful  of  introducing  any 
thing  which  my  people  might  think  popish.  Will  you  give 
me  your  opinions  on  the  subject?’  After  some  deliberation 
Bishop  Hurd  delivered  in  the  name  of  his  brethren  and  him- 
self their  unanimous  opinion,  that  the  introduction  of  religious 
paintings  into  his  Majesty's  Chapel  would  in  no  respect  vio- 
late the  laws  or  the  usages  of  the  Church  of  England.” 

The  painter,  with  his  usual  assiduity  and  love  for  his  art, 
devoted  himself  to  this  great  study.  He  divided  his  subject 
“ into  Four  Dispensations — the  Antediluvian,  the  Patriarchal, 
the  Mosaical,  and  the  Prophetical.  They  contained  in  all 
thirty-six  subjects,  eighteen  of  which  belonged  to  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, the  rest  to  the  New.  They  were  all  sketched,  and 
twenty-eight  were  executed,  for  which  West  received  in  all 
twenty-one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  five  pounds.  A work 
so  varied,  so  extensive,  and  so  noble  in  its  nature,  was  never 
before  undertaken  by  any  painter.” 

During  the  progress  of  this  work,  he  painted  many  other 
pictures,  some  of  them  for  his  royal  friend.  The  king,  queen, 
princes,  and  princesses,  sat  for  their  portraits,  sometimes  sin- 
gly and  sometimes  in  groups,  and  he  received  for  nine  pic- 
tures of  this  description,  two  thousand  guineas.  These  por- 
traits are  far  inferior  to  the  works  in  that  branch  of  the  art,  of 
Reynolds  or  Copley,  or  many  others.  One  of  the  finest  pic- 
tures of  West  is  the  Battle  of  La  Hogue.  It  is  said  that  when 
he  was  painting  this  picture,  an  admiral  took  him  to  Spithead, 
and  to  give  him  a lesson  on  the  effect  of  smoke  in  a naval 
engagement,  ordered  several  ships  of  the  fleet  to  manoeuvre  as 
in  action,  and  fire  broadsides,  while  the  painter  made  notes. 
It  was  a maxim  with  West  to  paint  nothing  without  studying 
the  object,  if  it  was  to  be  obtained.  The  originality  of  this  great 
picture  cannot  be  questioned,  yet  we  have  a print  before  us  (of 
the  same  size  with  Woollet’s  print  from  La  Hogue)  which  has 
points  of  similarity  that  make  us  think  West  must  have  seen  it. 

It  is  from  a picture  by  Langendyk,  a Dutch  painter,  and 
represents  the  destruction  of  the  English  fleet  in  the  Thames 
by  De  Ruyter  and  De  Witt,  in  the  year  1667.  The  Royal 
Charles  is  strikingly  like  the  nearest  French  ship  in  West’s 
picture  ; and  indeed  the  treatment  of  the  whole  subject  is  in  a 
manner  analogous. 


9 


66 


Indian  ink  and  Spanish  liquorice. 

To  paint  great  pictures,  and  to  live,  even  with  prudence  and 
without  ostentation  as  befitting  the  friend  of  royalty,  required 
many  thousand  guineas.  Benjamin  West,  when  he  began 
his  career  in  London,  had  no  fortune,  and  had  to  rely  on  the 
product  of  his  individual  exertion  ; for  it  was  only  after  his  es- 
tablishment, that  he  could  employ  pupils  and  inferior  artists, 
to  assist  in  the  mechanical  part  of  the  labour.  He  had  debts 
to  pay.  He  had  a house  to  build  for  his  family,  and  galleries 
and  work-shops,  spacious  and  lofty  for  pictures  designed  for 
royal  chapels.  To  purchase  ground  in  the  west  part  of  the 
metropolis  and  erect  such  buildings  as  the  painter  boldly,  yet 
wisely,  constructed  in  Newman-street,  necessarily  incurred  a 
great  debt.  44  When,”  said  Gilbert  Stuart,  44  I had  finished  a 
copy  of  a portrait  for  my  old  master,  that  I knew  he  was  to 
have  a good  price  for,  and  he  gave  me  a guinea,  I used  to 
think  it  hard — but  when  I looked  on  the  establishment  around 
me,  which  with  his  instruction  I enjoyed,  and  knew  it  was  yet 
to  be  paid  for,  I fully  exonerated  West  from  the  charge  of 
niggardliness,  and  cheerfully  contributed  my  labour  in  return 
for  his  kindness.” 

The  following  painter’s  gossip  was  communicated  by  Mr. 
West  to  Allston,  and  by  him  to  us.  44  Before  the  Royal 
Academy  was  formed,  the  Society  of  Painters  (as  I think  they 
were  then  called)  held  their  annual  exhibition  in  Spring  Gar- 
dens. On  a certain  year  Mr.  West  and  Mr.  Wilson  happened  to 
be  appointed  joint  hangers . It  was  a memorable  year  for  the 
crudeness  of  the  performances,  in  consequence,  I suppose,  of 
an  unusual  number  of  new  adventurers.  When  the  pictures 
were  all  up,  Wilson,  with  an  expressive  grin,  began  to  rub  his 
eyes,  as  if  to  clear  them  of  something  painful.  4 I’ll  tell  you 
what,  West,’  said  he  after  a while,  4 this  will  never  do ; we 
shall  lose  the  little  credit  we  have  : the  public  can  never  stand 
such  a shower  of  chalk  and  brick-bats.’ — 4 Well,  what’s  to 
be  done  ? We  can’t  reject  any  pictures  now.’  4 Since  that’s 
the  case  then,  we  must  mend  their  manners.’  4 What  do  you 
mean  to  do?’  4 You  shall  see,’  said  Wilson  after  a pause, 

4 what  Indian  ink  and  Spanish  liquorice  cat*  do.’  He  ac- 
cordingly despatched  the  porter  to  the  colourman  and  drug- 
gist for  these  reformers,  and  dissolving  them  in  water,  actually 
washed  nearly  half  the  pictures  in  the  exhibition  with  this  origi- 
nal glaze.  4 There,’  said  he  4 ’ tis  as  good  as  asphaltum— 
with  this  advantage  : that  if  the  artists  don’t  like  it,  they  can 
wash  it  off  when  they  get  the  pictures  home.’  ” And  Mr.  West 
acknowledged  that  they  were  all  the  better  for  it. 

West  proceeded  steadily  in  the  execution  of  the  great  work 
from  the  scriptures,  (occasionally  painting  other  historical 


The  author's  introduction  to  West . 


67 


subjects,)  to  the  increase  of  his  reputation,  and  the  satisfaction 
of  his  royal  friend. 

In  the  month  of  June,  1784,  the  writer  of  this  memoir  arrived 
in  England,  for  the  purpose  of  studying  the  art  of  painting, 
having  assurances  of  the  aid  of  Mr.  West,  before  leaving 
New-York.  When  introduced  to  the  painter,  he  was  working 
on  an  esel-picture  for  the  Empress  Catharine  of  Russia.  It 
was  Lear  and  Cordelia. 

The  impression  made  upon  an  American  youth  of  eighteen 
by  the  long  gallery  leading  from  the  dwelling-house,  to  the 
lofty  suite  of  painting-rooms — a gallery  filled  with  sketches 
and  designs  for  large  paintings — the  spacious  room  through 
which  I passed  to  the  more  retired  attelier — the  works  of  his  pen- 
cil surrounding  me  on  every  side — his  own  figure  seated  at  his 
esel^  and  the  beautiful  composition  at  which  he  was  employed, 
as  if  in  sport,  not  labour  ; — all  are  recalled  to  my  mind’s  eye 
at  this  distance  of  half  a century,  with  a vividness  which  doubt- 
less proceeds  in  part,  from  the  repeated  visits  to,  and  exami- 
nation of,  many  of  the  same  objects,  during  a residence  of 
more  than  three  years  in  London.  But  the  painter,  as  he  then 
appeared,  and  received  me  and  my  conductor,  (Mr.  Effing- 
ham Lawrence,  an  American,  like  himself  of  a quaker  family, 
and  no  longer  a quaker  in  habits  and  appearance,)  the  palette, 
pencil,  esel,  figure  of  Cordelia,  all  are  now  before  me  as 
though  seen  yesterday. 

Many  of  the  pictures  for  the  Royal  Chapel  of  Windsor  were 
then  in  the  apartments,  particularly  I call  to  view  the  Moses 
receiving  the  Law. 

The  pictures  mentioned  below  by  Mr.  Cunningham,  were 
not  painted  for  some  years  after  ; although  recorded  by  him 
as  preceding  the  works  on  Revelation. 

“ The  painter  expressed  his  regret  that  the  Italians  had 
dipped  their  pencils  in  the  monkish  miracles  and  incredible 
legends  of  the  church,  to  the  almost  total  neglect  of  their  na- 
tional history;  the  king  instantly  bethought  him  of  the  victo- 
rious reign  of  our  third  Edward,  and  of  St.  George’s  Hall  in 
Windsor  Castle.  West  had  a ready  hand;  he  sketched  out 
the  following  subjects,  seven  of  which  are  from  real  and  one 
from  fabulous  history  : 

‘ 1 • Edward  the  Third  embracing  the  Black  Prince,  after 
the  Battle  of  Cressy.  2.  The  Installation  of  the  order  of  the 
Garter.  3.  The  Black  Prince  receiving  the  king  of  France 
and  his  son  prisoners,  at  Poictiers.  4.  St.  George  vanquish- 
ing the  Dragon.  5.  Queen  Phillipa  defeating  David  of  Scot- 
land, in  ihe  Battle  of  Neville’s  Cross.  6.  Queen  Phillipa 
interceding  with  Edward  for  the  Burgesses  of  Calais.  7.  King 


68 


West's  avowed  love  of  country . 

Edward  forcing  the  passage  of  the  Somme.  8,  King  Edward 
crowning  Sir  Eustace  de  Ribaumont  at  Calais.  These  works 
are  very  large.  They  were  the  fruit  of  long  study  and  much 
labour,  and  with  the  exception  of  the  Death  of  Wolfe  and  the 
Battle  of  La  Hogue,  they  are  the  best  of  all  the  numerous 
works  of  this  artist.”  Yet  these  are  the  pictures  George  1Y. 
consigned  to  the  lumber-room. 

Previous  to  the  writer’s  visit  to  Europe,  Mr.  West  had  af- 
forded instruction  and  the  most  paternal  encouragement  to 
many  pupils,  American  and  English.  Those  of  this  country 
will  frequently  be  brought  before  the  reader  of  this  work. 
Charles  Wilson  Peale,  Gilbert  Stuart,  Joseph  Wright  and 
John  Trumbull,  were  among  the  American  students.  Peale 
was  under  his  guidance  from  1771  to  1774;  Stuart,  Wright 
and  Trumbull,  during  portions  of  the  American  revolutionary 
war,  and  the  last  mentioned  was  established  with  him  at  the 
time  of  the  visit  above  noticed,  as  a pupil,  and  remained  such 
for  some  years  after. 

It  has  been  a subject  of  speculation  with  many,  to  determine 
how  West  managed  to  keep  the  favour  of  his  friend  George 
the  Third,  during  the  contest  his  ministers  and  armies  were 
carrying  on  against  the  native  land  of  the  artist,  and  at  the 
same  time  preserve  the  love  of  country,  and  declare  his  at- 
tachment to  the  cause  of  liberty. 

Cunningham  says,  “ He  was  not,  according  to  his  own  ac- 
count, silent;  he  was  too  much  in  the  palace  and  alone  with 
his  majesty  to  avoid  some  allusion  to  the  strife  ; the  King 
inquired  anxiously  respecting  the  resources  of  his  foes  and  the 
talents  of  their  chiefs,  and  the  artist  gave,  or  imagined  he 
gave,  more  correct  information  concerning  the  American  lead- 
ers and  their  objects  than  could  be  acquired  through  official 
channels.  How  he  contrived  both  to  keep  his  place  in  the 
king’s  opinion,  and  the  respect  of  the  spirits  who  stirred  in 
the  American  revolution,  he  has  not  told  us,  but  it  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  guess.” 

As  we  are  yankees,  we  may  perhaps  guess  as  well  as  a 
Scotchman.  West  had  been  many  years  from  his  native  land 
before  the  contest  took  place.  He  had  no  connexion  with,  or 
knowledge  of,  most  of  the  leaders  in  his  country’s  cause.  He 
was  prudent  and  known  to  be  an  honest  man.  George  the 
Third  was  an  honest  man,  and  perfectly  relied  upon  the  painter’s 
sincerity.  Why  should  he  quarrel  with  him  for  honest  opinions, 
which  did  not  interfere  with  his  attachment  to  the  sovereign 
who  was  his  friend,  or  influence  any  of  his  actions  ? 

One  of  our  best  and  most  intelligent  artists,  Samuel  F.  B. 
M orse,  president  of  the  National  Academy,  has  mentioned  to 


69 


West  president  of  the  Royal  Academy . 

the  writer  an  anecdote  connected  with  this  subject.  He  says, 
that  on  one  occasion,  when  he  entered  Mr.  West’s  painting 
room,  long  after  the  death  of  George  the  Third,  he  found  the 
artist  engaged  in  copying  a portrait  of  that  king,  and  as  he 
sat  at  his  work,  and  talked  according  to  his  custom,  “ this  pic- 
ture” said  he,  “is  remarkable  for  one  circumstance;  the  king 
was  sitting  to  me  for  it,  when  a messenger  brought  him  the 
declaration  of  American  Independence.”  It  may  be  sup- 
posed, that  the  question  “ how  did  he  receive  the  news?”  was 
asked.  “He  was  agitated  at  first,”  said  West,  “then  sat 
silent  and  thoughtful,  at  length,  he  said,  “ Well  if  they 
cannot  be  happy  under  my  government,  I hope  they  may 
not  change  it  for  a worse.  I wish  them  no  ill.”  If  such  was 
George  the  Third,  we  find  no  difficulty  in  reconciling  his 
attachment  to  Benjamin  West,  with  the  American’s  honest 
love  of  his  native  land. 

It  is  recorded  of  West,  that  he  used  to  say,  “you  could 
always  tell  the  highest  nobility  at  court,  from  their  profound 
humility  to  the  king.  The  others  kept  at  a distance,  and  did 
not  seem  to  care  about  it.  The  first  thought  the  higher  they 
raised  the  prince,  the  higher  they  raised  themselves.”  This 
is  not  only  a proof  of  the  painter’s  keen  eye  for  observation  of 
manners,  as  well  as  forms  among  mankind,  but  of  a philosophi- 
cal spirit  and  a happy  power,  by  wffiich  to  communicate  his 
thoughts  by  words. 

On  the  death  of  Reynolds,  the  choice  of  the  Academy  fell 
on  West  for  their  president,  and  the  king  gave  his  ready 
assent.  The  Royal  Academy  consists  solely  of  artists,  who 
elect  their  own  members  and  officers,  and  manage  their  own 
affairs.  The  king  from  its  establishment  gave  it  his  patronage 
and  conferred  such  titles  on  its  presidents  or  members,  as  are 
considered  honours  in  a monarchy.  This  circumstance  has 
been  used  as  an  argument  in  support  of  the  patronage  of  a 
body  of  merchants,  lawTyers  and  physicians,  and  of  such  patrons 
having  control  over  an  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  in  this  country, 
directing  its  measures,  and  guiding  its  elections.  Such  ab- 
surdities can  be  advocated  by  men  otherwise  rational  ! and  in 
a republic  ! In  monarchies  men  need  the  patronage  of  those 
who  lord  it  over  them,  and  are  supported  by  their  labours. 
In  republics  there  is  no  protector  but  the  law.  That  spirit  of 
benevolence  with  which  our  bountiful  Creator  has  endowed  us, 
and  which,  breaking  through  the  sordid  crust*  of  worldliness 
with  which  we  surround  it,  shines  forth  in  acts  of  kindness, 
encouragement,  liberality,  and  philanthropy,  is  not  what  is 
meant  by  patronage  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  word  ; 


70 


West's  advice  to  students. 


it  is  the  opposite  of  that  patronage  which  the  supercilious  pre- 
sume they  are  affording  to  those  they  employ — but  it  is  the 
real  patronage,  which  protects  the  weak  and  encourages  the 
meritorious  by  support  and  advice  ; it  is  that  love  of  our 
neighbour  which  is  the  essence  of  religion  ; it  is  the  love  of 
good,  which  is  the  essence  of  morality. 

On  the  24th  of  March,  1792,  Mr.  West  delivered  his  inau- 
gural discourse.  His  discourses  were  distinguished  for  prac- 
tical good  sense.  He  advised  the  students  “to  give  heart  and 
soul  wholly  to  art,  to  turn  aside  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the 
left,  but  consider  that  hour  lost  in  which  a line  had  not  been 
drawn,  nor  a masterpiece  studied.  ‘Observe,’  he  said,  ‘ with 
the  same  contemplative  eye  the  landscape,  the  appearance  of 
trees,  figures  dispersed  around,  and  their  aerial  distance  as 
well  as  lineal  forms.  Omit  not  to  observe  the  light  and  shade 
in  consequence  of  the  sun’s  rays  being  intercepted  by  clouds 
or  other  accidents.  Let  your  mind  be  familiar  with  the  cha- 
racteristics of  the  ocean ; mark  its  calm  dignity  when  undis- 
turbed by  the  winds,  and  all  its  various  states  between  that 
and  its  terrible  sublimity  when  agitated  by  the  tempest. 
Sketch  with  attention  its  foaming  and  winding  coasts,  and 
that  awful  line  which  separates  it  from  the  heavens.  Replen- 
ished with  these  stores,  your  imagination  will  then  come  forth 
as  a river  collected  from  little  springs  spreads  into  might  and 
majesty.  If  you  aspire  to  excellence  in  your  profession,  you 
must,  like  the  industrious  bee,  survey  the  whole  face  of  nature 
and  sip  the  sweet  from  every  flower.  When  thus  enriched, 
lay  up  your  acquisitions  for  future  use,  and  examine  the  great 
works  of  art  to  animate  your  feelings  and  to  excite  your  emu- 
lation. When  you  are  thus  mentally  enriched,  and  your  hand 
practised  to  obey  the  powers  of  your  will,  you  will  then  find 
your  pencils  or  your  chisels  as  magic  wands,  calling  into  view 
creations  of  your  own  to  adorn  your  name  and  country.’ 

Mr.  West’s  advice  was  always  replete  with  practical  good 
sense.  “ Don’t  shut  yourself  up  from  visiters  when  engaged 
on  any  great  work.  Hear  their  remarks  and  encourage  their 
criticisms.  From  the  various  opinions  something  useful  may 
be  gathered  to  improve  your  picture.”  His  practice  corres- 
ponded with  his  advice.  He  would  continue  his  work  though 
surrounded  by  company.  When  Trumbull  was  painting 
under  his  roof  and  direction,  he  consulted  him  as  to  expung- 
ing a part  of  a*  picture  he  was  composing,  in  order  to  substi- 
tute other  figures,  but  the  master  advised  him  rather  to  take  a 
fresh  canvass  and  paint  the  whole  anew.  He  said  he  had 


71 


Lawrence's  portrait  of  West. 

found  this  the  shortest  and  least  troublesome  way  of  proceed- 
ing to  alter  a picture. 

One  of  Mr.  West’s  discourses  has  been  illustrated  by  the 
pencil  of  his  successor  in  the  presidency.  A subscription  hav- 
ing been  raised  in  New-Yorkto  pay  Lawrence  for  a full  length 
of  West,  the  portrait  painter  judiciously  chose  to  exhibit  the 
president  in  the  act  of  delivering  a discourse  on  colour  to  the 
students  of  the  academy.  Of  this  discourse,  and  of  Lawrence’s 
picture,  Mr.  Leslie  says:  “Your  mention  of  the  rainbow  in 
Lawrence’s  picture,  reminds  me  that  Sir  Thomas  intended 
that  picture  to  represent  Mr.  West  in  the  act  of  delivering  a 
lecture,  which  he  once  did  at  Somerset-house  to  the  acade- 
micians and  students,  for  the  purpose  of  explaining  lo  them 
his  theory  of  colour.  It  was  not  one  of  the  discourses  read 
by  him  as  president,  on  the  occasion  of  delivering  the  medals, 
but  it  was  given  by  his  own  appointment  in  the  middle  of  the 
day,  and  was  extemporaneous.  I was  present  as  a student, 
and  1 remember  he  exhibited  a board,  on  which  was  painted 
a globe  and  a rainbow.  From  these  he  illustrated  what  he 
conceived  to  be  the  principle  on  which  the  composition  of  the 
colours  in  Raphael’s  Cartoons  was  conducted,  large  copies  of 
which,  by  Thornhill,  were  hanging  round  the  room.  Law- 
rence has  dressed  Mr.  West  in  a gown  he  only  wore  in  his 
painting  room,  as  more  picturesque  than  a coat  and  waistcoat. 
I think  you  will  observe  that  besides  the  rainbow,  he  has  in- 
troduced a part  of  the  cartoon  of  the  “ Death  of  Ananias.” 
It  is  a pity  that  Sir  Thomas  in  this  fine  portrait  has  exagge- 
rated the  proportions  of  Mr.  West’s  figure.  Sir  J.  Reynolds 
would  not  have  done  so.  He  painted  men  as  they  were,  and 
gave  dignity  without  making  them  taller.  The  head,  how- 
ever, is  very  like,  and  in  Lawrence’s  best  style.” 

We  fully  concur  in  opinion  with  this  eminent  artist  and  able 
critic.  Lawrence’s  biographer,  Williams,  has  roundly  assert- 
ed, and  Cunningham  has  repeated  the  falsehood,  that  this 
portrait  of  West  was  presented  by  Sir  Thomas  to  the  American 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts  upon  being  made  a member.  Now  the 
knight  made  no  present  whatever.  He  was  employed  by  a 
number  of  subscribers,  and  paid  $2000.  The  originator  of 
the  subscription  was  Mr.  Waldo.  The  picture  was  placed 
under  the  care  of  the  directors  of  the  American  Academy,  and 
they  gave  public  notice  that  no  one  should  copy  it  ! ! This 
was  their  way  of  encouraging  the  progress  of  art. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Mr.  Cunningham,  when  speaking  of 
West,  always  represents  him  as  a quaker,  although  he  has  with 
most  poetical  liberty  made  him  a soldier,  and  a captain  leading 


72 


West  did  not  dress  as  a quaker. 


soldiers,  in  an  enterprise  of  danger.  We  are  told,  that  “ he 
went  from  his  gallery  in  Newman-street  to  Windsor,  and  back 
again,  with  the  staid  looks  of  one  of  the  brethren  going  to, 
and  returning  from,  chapel.”  Now  this  is  as  purely  fiction  as 
his  captain’s  commission,  and  his  military  achievements.  In 
Newman-street,  or  at  Court,  West  looked  and  dressed  like 
other  gentlemen  of  the  time. 

Cunningham  says,  that  the  father  of  West  was  of  that  family 
settled  at  Long  Crendon,  in  Buckinghamshire,  which  pro- 
duced Colonel  James  West,  the  friend  and  companion  in  arms 
of  John  Hampden.  This  family  were  undoubted  descendants 
of  the  Lord  Delaware,  renowned  in  the  wars  of  Edward  the 
Third,  and  the  Black  Prince. 

When  in  consequence  of  West’s  being  elected  to  the  presi- 
dency of  the  academy,  the  king  offered  him  the  honour  of 
knighthood,  he  respectfully  declined  the  empty  title,  yet  to  this 
day  we  hear  him  called  Sir  Benjamin. — Surely  every  Ameri- 
can will  rejoice  that  he  rejected  the  nick-name.  “ West”  is 
all-sufficient  for  his  fame — any  addition  would  be  defor- 
mity. 

In  an  address  delivered  to  the  students  of  the  National 
Academy  of  Design,  New  York,  in  1831,  it  was  said, 

“ When  Holbein  visited  England,  Henry  the  Eighth  was 
probably  as  accomplished  a gentleman,  compared  with  his 
subjects,  as  George  the  Fourth  was  in  comparison  with  the 
Englishmen  of  the  present  day.  Holbein  received  no  mark 
of  honour,  and  the  beastly  tyrant  in  the  all-sufficiency  of  right- 
divine,  power  and  patronage,  prescribed  to  the  artist  the  mode 
in  which  he  should  design  the  portrait  of  his  patron.  The 
painter  probably  fearing  for  his  life,  submitted  to  be  dictated 
to  by  the  barbarian,  and  represented  the  burly  murderer  with 
face  and  body  full  in  front,  as  may  be  still  seen  on  the  covers 
of  the  Harry-the-Eighth  playing  cards.  The  cotemporary  of 
this  Harry,  Francis  the  First  of  France,  proved  his  superi- 
ority, by  the  memorable  speech  to  his  murmuring  nobles,  who 
were  dissatisfied  that  he  preferred  the  society  of  a painter  to 
that  of  his  courtiers:  H can  make  a thousand  nobles  with  a 
word,’  said  the  heroic  monarch,  4 but  only  God  can  make  a 
Da  Vinci.’  Francis,  though  perhaps  unknown  to  himself, 
felt  an  undefined  conviction  of  the  folly,  if  not  blasphemy,  of 
the  flattery  which  tells  kings  that  they  are  the  fountains  of 
honour.  He  felt,  perhaps,  as  we  feel,  that  God  alone  is  the 
fountain  of  honour,  as  of  all  good.  While  contemplating  this 
reproof  to  the  nobles  of  France,  so  glorious  to  Francis,  let  us 


West  accused  of  vanity. 


73 

remember  that  Da  Vinci  was  not  only  an  artist,  but  an  accom- 
plished and  learned  man.  The  progress  ol  civilization  in 
England  is  marked  by  the  attentions  and  honours  paid  to 
Rubens  by  Charles  the  First,  who,  though  not  as  far  advanced 
as  his  subjects  in  the  science  of  political  justice,  was  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  men  of  his  time.  He  made  the  painter, 
Sir  Peter  Paul.  But  the  painter  was,  and  still  remains,  Rubens. 
From  that  time,  it  appears  to  have  been  a matter  of  course,  to 
confer  the  title  of  knight  on  the  most  distinguished  painter  in 
England,  and  ! am  proud  that  ! can  say  that  Benjamin  West 
was  the  only  man  who  refused  the  supposed  honour.  When 
a child,  he  aspired  to  such  distinction,  as  he  then  childishly 
thought  it ; as  a man,  he  firmly,  though  respectfully,  declined 
t ie  honour  which  his  friend,  for  such  George  the  Third  was, 
intended  him.  He  knew  that  the  name  of  West  could  receive 
no  lustre  from  a title.” 

This  assertion  respecting  West,  is  thus  noticed  by  the  edi- 
tor of  a very  respectable  Journal,  devoted  to  the  Fine  Arts, 
published  in  London,  in  which  the  address  is  copied,  “ We 
honour  the  principles  of  the  republican  professor,  but  he  is 
mistaken  in  giving  West  credit  for  contemning  honours. 
The  knighthood  was  probably  declined  from  religious  scruples, 
but  he  evidently  had  no  disinclination  to  a baronetage,  and 
had  the  vanity  to  boast  of  his  descent.”  We  have  reason  to 
believe  that  George  the  Third  intended  to  create  West  a 
baronet,  and  to  add  the  means  of  supporting  the  distinction  ; 
and  the  pai-nter  had  no  objection  to  such  distinction  for  his 
family.  Is  it  vanity  to  be  proud  of  descent  from  the  compa- 
nion in  arms  of  Hampden  ? — of  descent  from  a leader  of 
patriots,  armed  and  bleeding  in  defence  of  their  country’s 
rights  and  liberty  ? — of  a man  who  risked  fortune  and  life  to 
repel  tyranny?  But  where  is  the  proof  of  West’s  boasting? 
Certainly  not  in  the  incident  relative  to  his  picture  of  the 
L*  order  of  the  garter.”  As  to  the  religious  scruples,  the  editor 
no  doubt,  like  many  others,  views  West  as  a quaker/  But  the 
w riter  knows  that  the  painter  had  no  religious  scruples  of  the 
kind.  He  was  not  a quaker  in  manner,  dress,  conversation 
or  conduct  after  his  arrival  in  England,  at  least  we  can  speak 
of  our  ow  n knowledge  after  the  year  1783,  and  was  as  un- 
quaker-like  in  his  appearance  as  any  man  in  Great  Britain. 

Cunningham  says,  “ The  grave  simplicity  of  the  quaker 
continued  to  the  last  in  the  looks  and  manners  of  the  artist.” 
This  might  induce  any  one  to  picture  West  to  himself  as  a broad- 
brimmed,  drabbed-coloured  sectarian — but  he  was  nothing 
like  it.  His  countenance  was  surrounded  by  the  powder  and 

it) 


74 


West’s  answer'  to  the  offer  of  knighthood . 

the  carls,  considered  decorations  at  the  time,  and  his  well- 
formed  limbs  covered  by  garments  of  texture  and  colour  such 
as  were  worn  by  other  gentlemen.  His  liberal  mind  did  not 
even  prohibit  the  study  or  practice  of  his  liberal  profession  on 
the  day  set  apart  for  the  cessation  of  labour.  To  study  or 
exercise  Ins  high  calling  was  no  labour  to  him.  It  was  the 
pleasant  exertion  of  powers  given  by  his  Creator,  to  lift  bis 
fellow  creatures  from  the  pits  and  quagmires  of  ignorance. 

We  have  said  that  when  West  was  elected  president  of  the 
Royal  Academy,  George  the  Third  wished  to  confer  the  title 
upon  him  which  his  predecessor  had  borne.  The  Duke  of 
Gloucester  44  called  on  West  from  the  king  to  inquire  if  this 
honour  would  be  acceptable.  4 No  man,’  said  Benjamin,  * en- 
tertains a higher  respect  for  political  honours  and  distinctions 
than  myself,  but  f really  think  [ have  earned  greater  eminence 
by  my  pencil  already  than  knighthood  could  confer  on  me. 
The  chief  value  of  titles  is  to  preserve  in  families  a respect  for 
those  principles  by  which  such  distinctions  were  originally  ob- 
tained— -but  simple  knighthood  to  a man  who  is  at  least  as 
well  known  as  he  could  ever  hope  to  be  from  that  honour,  is 
not  a legitimate  object  of  ambition.  To  myself  then  your 
royal  highness  must  perceive  the  title  could  add  no  dignity, 
and  as  it  would  perish  with  myself,  it  could  add  none  to  my 
family.  But  were  l possessed  of  fortune,  independent  of  my 
profession,  sufficient  to  enable  my  posterity  to  maintain  the 
rank,  I think  that,  with  my  hereditary  descent  and  the  station 
I occupy  among  artists,  a more  permanent  title  might  become 
a desirable  object.  As  it  is,  however,  that  cannot  be ; and  I 
have  been  thus  explicit  with  your  royal  highness  that  no  mis- 
conception may  exist  on  the  subject.’  The  duke  took  West 
by  the  hand,  and  said,  c Aou  have  justified  the  opinion  which 
the  king  has  of  you  ; he  will  be  delighted  with  your  answer.’  ” 

From  this  we  are  justified  in  saying,  as  in  the  address  to 
the  students,  that  44  he  firmly,  though  respectfully,  declined 
the  honour,  which  his  friend,  for  such  George  the  Third  was, 
intended  him.  He  knew  the  name  of  West  could  receive  no 
lustre  from  a title.”  The  words,  44 1 really  think  l have  earn- 
ed greater  eminence  by  my  pencil  already,  than  knighthood 
could  confer  upon  me,”  appear  very  plainly  to  indicate  the 
painter’s  sense  of  the  relative  value  of  his  art,  and  the  honours 
it  is  supposed  princes  can  bestow  by  a title  uot  hereditary  and 
unaccompanied  by  wealth.  He  seems  to  have  said,  44  If  my 
posterity  could  be  distinguished  among  men  by  a mark  or  title 
derived  from  me,  and  wealth  to  support  that  rank  among  their 
countrymen  to  which  wealth  is  supposed  essential,  1 might 


General  supposition  that  he  was  knighted.  75 

wish  that  the  remembrance  of  that  by  which  the  distinction 
was  obtained  might  be  so  perpetuated.  But  for  myself  a title 
is  not  a legitimate  object  of  ambition.” 

Mr.  Leslie,  in  one  of  his  letters,  says,  “ Raphael  West  told 
me  that  his  father  was  led  to  expect  a baronetcy  as  soon  as  the 
great  works  he  was  engaged  on  for  the  chapel  of  Windsor 
Castle  were  completed  ; but  these  works  were  all  stopped  when 
the  king  lost  his  senses.” 

“ Mr.  West  was,  as  you  know,  at  all  times  delighted  to 
receive  Americans,  and  no  subject  of  conversation  interested 
him  more  than  the  present  greatness  and  future  prospects  of 
the  United  States.  His  political  opinions  were  known  to  be 
too  liberal  for  the  party  who  governed  England  during  the 
regency  and  the  reign  of  George  IV.  Whether  owing  to  this 
cause  or  not,  he  was  certainly  out  of  favour  with  the  court 
during  all  the  time  of  George  lib’s  long  seclusion  from  the 
world.  It  was  to  the  credit  of  that  monarch,  that  he  never 
allowed  the  political  opinions  of  Mr.  West  to  interfere  with 
his  admiration  of  him  as  an  artist,  and  his  friendship  for  him 
as  a man.  Theking  died  while  Mr.  West  was  confined  to  his 
bed  with  his  last  illness.  Raphael  West  endeavoured  to  keep 
the  newspaper  from  him,  but  he  guessed  the  reason,  and  said, 
6i  I am  sure  the  king  is  dead,  and  I have  lost  the  best  friend  I 
ever  had  in  my  life.” 

The  feeling  that  West  ought  to  receive  that  title  which  the 
vulgar  consider  as  bestowing  honour,  was  and  is  so  prevalent 
both  in  England  and  America,  that  in  both  countries  he  is 
occasionally  called  Sir  Benjamin  to  this  day.  Memos,  in  a 
recent  English  publication  on  the  fine  arts,  calls  him  Sir  Ben- 
jamin ; and  Hazlitt,  in  his  book  called  “ Conversations  of 
James  Northcote,”  has  this  passage  in  relating  circumstances 
attending  a trial  in  which  West  was  subpoenaed  as  a witness. 
“ West  was  then  called  upon  to  give  his  evidence,  and  there 
was  immediately  a lane  made  for  him  to  come  forward,  and 
a stillness  lhat  you  could  hear  a pin  drop.  The  judge  (Lord 
Kenyon)  then  addressed  him:  “ Sir  Benjamin,  we  shall  be 
glad  to  hear  your  opinion.”  Mr.  West  answered,  “ He  had 
never  received  the  honour  of  a title  from  his  majesty;”  and 
proceeded  to  explain  the  difference  between  the  two  engra- 
vings which  were  charged  with  being  copies  the  one  of  the 
other,  with  such  clearness  and  knowledge  of  the  art,  though 
in  general  he  was  a bad  speaker,  that  Lord  Kenyon  said, 
when  lie  had  done,  “ I suppose,  gentlemen,  you  are  perfectly 
satisfied — 1 perceive  that  there  is  much  more  in  this  than  I 


West’s  loss  by  the.  king's  illness 


76 

had  any  idea  of,  and  I am  sorry  I did  not  make  it  more  my 
study  when  I was  young  !” 

The  reader  will  please  to  remark  that  it  is  Mr.  Hazlitt  who 
speaks  of  “ two  engravings  which  were  charged  with  being 
copies  the  one  of  the  other,”  which  is  phraseology  not  suffi- 
ciently clear  for  our  yankee  comprehension,  though  we  are 
bound  to  believe  it  good  English,  on  the  authority  of  a popu- 
lar writer,  and  a beautiful  London  edition  from  the  hands  of 
Colburn  Bentley. 

I find,  and  m3'  readers  may  be  pleased  to  know,  that  the 
ancient  crest  of  the  Wests,  Lords  Delaware,  was  a bird’s 
head  argent,  charged  with  a foss  dancette  sable. 

In  the  answer  West  gave  to  the  offer  of  knighthood,  Cun- 
ningham observes,  “ there  was  certainly  very  little  of  the  qua- 
ker.  Possibly  he  was  not  without  hope  that  the  king  would 
confer  a baronetcy,  and  an  income  to  support  it,  on  one  who,  to 
the  descent  from  the  lords  of  Delaware,  could  add  such  claims 
of  personal  importance.  No  further  notice,  however,  was 
taken  of  the  matter  ; he  went  to  the  palace  as  usual,  and  as 
usual  his  reception  was  warm  and  friendly- 

“From  1769  till  1801  West  had  uniformly  received  all 
orders  for  pictures  from  his  majesty  in  person.  They  had 
settled  the  subject  and  price  between  them  without  the  inter- 
vention of  others,  and,  in  addition  to  his  one  thousand  pounds 
a year  paid  on  account,  he  had  received  whatever  more,  and 
it  was  not  much,  might  be  due  upon  the  pictures  actually^ 
painted.  A great  change  was  near.  A mental  cloud  fell  upon 
the  king,  and  the  artist  was  the  first  to  be  made  sensible  that 
the  sceptre  was  departed  from  his  hand.  The  doors  of  the 
palace,  which  heretofore  had  opened  spontaneously  like  those 
of  Milton’s  Paradise,  no  longer  flew  wide  at  his  approach,  but 
turned  on  their  hinges  grating  and  reluctantly.  What  this 
might  mean  he  was  informed  by  Mr.  W3?att,  the  royal  archi- 
tect, who  called  and  said  he  was  authorized  to  inform  him  that 
the  pictures  painting  for  the  chapel  at  Windsor  must  be  suspend- 
ed till  further  orders.  ‘This  extraordinary  proceeding,’  sa}'$ 
Galt,  ‘ rendered  the  studies  of  the  best  part  of  the  artist’s  life 
useless,  and  deprived  him  of  that  honourable  provision,  the 
fruit  of  his  talents  and  industry,  on  which  he  had  counted  for 
the  repose  of  his  declining  years.  For  some  time  it  affected 
him  deeply,  and  he  was  at  a loss  what  steps  to  take.  At  last., 
however,  on  reflecting  on  the  marked  friendship  and  favour 
which  the  king  had  always  shown  him,  be  addressed  his  ma- 
jesty a Setter,  of  which  the  following  is  a copy  of  the  rough 


His  letter  to  the  king 


77 


draft,  being  the  only  one  preserved.’  After  mentioning  the 
message  to  suspend  the  paintings  for  the  chapel,  it  proceeds: 

“ ‘ Since  1797  I have  finished  three  pictures,  begun  several 
others,  and  composed  the  remainder  of  the  subjects  for  the  cha- 
pel, on  the  progress  of  Revealed  Religion.  Those  are  subjects 
so  replete  with  dignity  of  character  and  expression,  as  demanded 
the  historian,  the  commentator,  and  the  accomplished  painter, 
to  bring  them  into  view.  Your  majesty’s  gracious  commands 
for  mv  pencil  on  that  extensive  subject  stimulated  my  humble 
abilities,  and  1 commenced  the  work  with  zeal  and  enthusiasm. 
Animated  by  your  commands,  I burned  my  midnight  lamp  to 
attain  that  polish  which  marks  my  scriptural  pictures.  Your 
majesty’s  zeal  for  religion  and  love  of  the  elegant  arts  are 
known  over  the  civilized  world,  and  your  protection  of  my 
pencil  had  given  it  celebritv,  and  made  mankind  anxiously 
look  for  the  completion  of  the  great  work  on  Revealed  Reli- 
gion. lit  the  station  which  1 fill  in  the  Academy  1 have  been 
zealous  in  promoting  merit ; ingenious  artists  have  received 
my  ready  aid,  and  my  galleries  and  my  purse  have  been 
opened  to  their  studies  and  their  distresses.  The  breath  of 
envy  or  the  whisper  of  detraction  never  defiled  my  lips,  nor 
the  want  of  morality  my  character ; and  your  majesty’s  vir- 
tues and  those  of  Iter  majesty  have  been  the  theme  of  my  admi- 
ration for  many  years. 

“ ‘ I feel  with  great  concern  the  suspension  of  the  work  on 
Revealed  Religion — if  it  is  meant  to  be  permanent,  myself 
and  the  fine  arts  have  much  to  lament.  To  me  it  will  be  ruin- 
ous, and  it  will  damp  the  hope  of  patronage  in  the  more  re- 
fined departments  of  painting.  1 have  this  consolation,  that 
m the  thirty-five  years  during  which  my  pencil  has  been 
honoured  with  your  commands,  a great  body  of  historical  and 
scriptural  works  have  been  placed  in  the  churches  and  palaces 
of  the  kingdom.  Their  professional  claims  may  be  humble, 
but  similar  works  have  not  been  executed  before  by  anv  of 
your  majesty’s  subjects.  And  this  1 will  assert,  that  your 
commands  and  patronage  were  not  laid  on  a lazy  or  an  un- 
grateful man,  or  an  undutiful  subject.’ 

“To  this  letter,  written  on  the  26th  of  September,  1801, 
and  carried  to  the  court  by  Wyatt,  West  received  no  answer. 
On  his  majesty’s  recovery,  he  sought  and  obtained  a private 
audience.  The  king  had  not  been  made  acquainted  with  the 
order  for  suspending  the  works,  nor  had  he  received  the  letter. 

£ Go  on  with  your  work,  West,’  said  the  king,  kindly,  ‘ go  on 
with  the  pictures,  and  1 will  take  care  of  you.’  He  shook  him 
bv  the  hand  and  dismissed  him  £ And  this,’  says  Galt.  ' was 


78 


Malice  of  West's  enemies . 

the  last  interview  he  was  permitted  to  have  with  his  early  and 
constant,  and  to  him  truly  royal,  patron.  But  he  continued 
to  execute  the  pictures,  and,  in  the  usual  quarterly  payments, 
received  his  £1000  per  annum  till  his  majesty’s  final  superan- 
nuation ; when,  without  any  intimation  whatever,  on  calling  to 
receive  it,  he  was  told  that  it  had  been  stopped,  and  that  the 
paintings  for  the  chapel,  of  Revealed  Religion,  had  been  sus- 
pended. He  submitted  in  silence — he  neither  remonstrated 
nor  complained.’ 

“ The  story  of  his  dismissal  from  court  was  spread  with 
many  aggravations  ; and  the  malevolence  of  enemies  which  his 
success  had  created — there  are  always  such  reptiles — was 
gratified  by  the  circulation  of  papers  detailing  an  account  of 
the  prices  which  the  fortunate  painter  had  received  for  his 
works  from  the  king.  The  hand  which  had  drawn  up  this 
injurious  document  neglected  to  state  that  the  sum  of  thirty- 
four  thousand  one  hundred  and  eighty-seven  pounds  was 
earned  in  the  course  of  thirty-three  laborious  years : and  the 
public,  looking  only  to  the  sum  at  the  bottom  of  the  page, 
imagined  that  West  must  have  amassed  a fortune.  This  no- 
tion was  dispelled  by  an  accurate  statement  of  work  done  and 
money  received,  with  day  and  date,  signed  with  the  artist’s 
name,  and  accompanied  by  a formal  declaration  of  its  truth  ; 
a needless  addition,  for  all  who  knew  any  thing  of  West  knew 
him  to  be  one  of  the  most  honourable  of  men.” 

This  disgraceful  spirit,  originating  in  disappointment,  envy, 
and  all  the  base  feelings  w hich  ignorance  of  our  true  interests, 
and  the  imperfections  of  our  social  systems  engender  in  the 
bosoms  of  men,  may  be  traced  in  the  publications  of  the  days 
in  which  West  lived  ; and  unfortunately  some  of  the  slanders 
are  embalmed  in  the  works  of  genius,  and  will  descend  to  pos- 
terity. Wolcott  strove  to  pull  down  West,  that  Opie  might  be 
exalted  on  his  ruins  ; and  the  talents  of  the  poet  may  preserve 
the  falsehoods  which  were  harmless  at  the  time,  notwithstanding 
the  popularity  of  Peter  Pindar.  The  infamous  Williams,  as 
Anthony  Pasquin,  shot  his  feeble  arrows  against  West,  and 
against  all  who  were  distinguished  for  talents  or  virtue.  Fu- 
seli, the  caricaturist  of  nature,  was  the  caricaturist  of  West. 
Hazlitt  relates  the  sarcasms  of  Northcote,  a pupil  of  Reynolds 
—in  short,  it  is  painful  to  observe,  that  (notwithstanding 
West’s  acknowledged  purity  of  moral  character,  active  bene- 
volence, simplicity  of  manner,  great  kindness  to  all  artists  who 
sought  his  instruction,  unwearied  readiness  to  assist  and  ad- 
vise, equability  of  temper  that  dulness  could  not  disturb,  or 


79 


Allstoris  opinion  of  West . 

impertinence  ruffle)  such  a man  was  a butt  for  the  shafts  of 
envy,  malice,  and  uncharitableness,  pointed  by  men  of  learn- 
ing, wit,  and  genius. 

Of  the  very  many  artists  with  whom  we  have  associated,  who 
had  known  Mr.  West  personally,  we  never  heard  but  one 
speak  otherwise  of  him,  except  as  of  a benefactor  and  friend, 
and  that  one  acknowledged  that  he  had  been  more  than  a 
father  to  him  for  thirty  years.  Mr.  Allston,  in  a letter  before 
us,  says,  he  “ received  me  with  the  greatest  kindness.  I shall 
never  forget  his  benevolent  smile  when  he  took  me  by  the 
hand  ; it  is  still  fresh  in  my  memory,  linked  with  the  last  of 
like  kind  which  accompanied  the  farewell  shake  of  the  hand 
when  I took  leave  of  him  in  1818.  His  gallery  was  open  to 
me  at  all  times,  and  his  advice  always  ready  and  kindly  given. 
He  was  a man  overflowing  with  the  milk  of  human  kindness. 
If  he  had  enemies,  I doubt  if  he  owed  them  to  any  other  cause 
than  this  rare  virtue,  which  (alas  for  human  nature!)  is  too 
often  deemed  cause  sufficient.” 

“Whenever,”  says  the  eloquent  and  judicious  Verplanck, 
“ the  historical  inquirer  can  thus  efface  the  stains  left  by  time 
or  malice  upon  the  fame  of  the  wise  and  good,  he  effects  many 
of  the  grandest  objects  of  history.” 

F useli  writes  to  Roscoe : “ 4 There  are,’  says  Mr.  West,  4 but 
two  ways  of  working  successfully,  that  is;  lastingly,  in  this 
country,  for  an  artist — the  one  is  to  paint  for  the  king ; the 
other,  to  meditate  a scheme  of  your  own.’  The  first  he  has 
monopolized;  in  the  second  he  is  not  idle:  witness  the  prints 
from  English  history,  and  the  late  advertisement  of  allegorical 
prints  to  be  published  from  his  designs  by  Bartolozzi.  In  imi- 
tation of  so  great  a man , I am  determined  to  lay,  hatch,  and 
crack  an  egg  for  myself  too,  if  I can.”  By  marking  the  words 
“ so  great  a man”  in  italics,  the  envious  Swiss  has  only  marked 
his  own  irritation  at  seeing  the  prosperity  and  popularity  of  the 
amiable  American.  It  reminds  us  of  his  single  vote  against  the 
otherwise  unanimous  election  for  West  as  president  of  the  Aca- 
demy. Fuseli  did  “lay,  hatch,  and  crack  an  egg”  for  him- 
self: he  produced  his  splendid  Milton  Gallery,  which  totally 
failed,  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  the  Academy  to  support 
it,  who  not  only  gave  it  the  high  encomiums  it  deserved,  but 
got  up  a dinner  in  the  gallery  at  fifteen  shillings  a head  for 
the  painter’s  benefit.  The  pictures  were  principally  pur- 
chased by  the  painter’s  private  friends,  to  help  him  out  of 
the  undeserved  difficulties  his  project  had  generated.  The 
reader  will  see  more  on  this  subject  in  our  biography  of 


80 


West  in  Paris . 


Allston,  a man  who  loved  and  was  loved  by  West,  and  found 
ample  encouragement  for  his  pencil  in  London,  although  he 
did  not  paint  for  a king  or  bespatter  the  king’s  painter  with 
scurrilous  abuse,  mis-called  wit.  By  no  means  meaning  to 
deny  that  Fuseli  had  wit ; but  when  wit  is  prompted  by  envy 
and  jealousy,  it  loses  its  character,  and  takes  the  ugly  features 
of  the  demons  who  incite  it.  Real  wit  is  always  accompanied 
by  truth,  if  not  by  good  nature.  Fuseli  had  extraordinary 
talents  as  a man  independent  of  his  art,  and  was  perhaps  the  most 
learned  of  modern  painters.  But  the  enmity  of  Fuseli  and  Barry 
towards  each  other,  though  both  eminently  high  in  their  pro- 
fession, the  hostility  of  both  against  West,  and  of  Barry 
towards  Reynolds,  with  the  jealousy  and  envy  at  one  time 
displayed  generally  against  West — form  a disgusting  portion  of 
the  history  of  English  art. 

That  armistice  which  was  denominated  the  peace  of  Amiens, 
took  place  in  1802,  when  West  was  dismissed  from  employ- 
ment by  the  unworthy  successor  of  George  the  Third.  The 
continent  of  Europe  had  been  virtually  shut  against  the  Eng- 
lish for  ten  years,  and  all  ranks  rushed  to  Paris,  with  curiosity 
on  tiptoe  to  see  the  wonders  there  accumulated  by  the  great  mili- 
tary robber,  and  the  no  less  wonder,  the  robber  himself.  That 
tne  president  of  the  Royal  Academy  should  seize  this  oppor- 
tunity to  view  in  one  great  collection  those  gems,  which  in  his 
youth  he  had  studied  in  their  peaceful  homes,  from  whence  the 
spoiler  had  dragged  them,  was  to  be  expected.  He  visited 
Paris,  and  took  with  him  his  sublime  composition,  on  a small 
scale,  of  “ Death  on  the  Pale  Horse.”  His  reception  was  cor- 
dial, and  the  admiration  of  his  work  enthusiastic.  Mr.  Cun- 
ningham says,  “ Minister  after  minister,  and  artist  after  artist, 
from  the  accomplished  Talleyrand,  and  the  subtle  Fouche,  to 
the  enthusiastic  Denon,  and  the  ferocious  David  gathered 
around  him,  and  talked  with  unbounded  love  of  historical 
painting  and  its  influence  on  mankind.”  All  this  is  attributed 
by  the  Scottish  biographer  to  “ wily”  politics,  hypocrisy  and 
flattery.  We  believe  men  of  all  civilized  nations  at  present 
pretty  much  the  same,  and  the  professions  of  a Frenchman 
worth  as  much  as  those  of  a Briton,  south  or  north.  That 
West  was  pleased  with  his  reception  among  a gallant  and 
polished  people,  is  certain.  He  had  two  or  more  interviews, 
as  we  are  informed,  with  the  First  Consul  ; and  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  at  this  time,  Bonaparte  had  restored  prosperity 
to  distracted  France,  and  peace  to  Europe.  That  although 
a military  robber,  lie  was  only  more  successful,  not  more  atro- 


Charles  Fox  and  West . 


81 


cious  than  other  military  robbers  who  have  been  glorified  by 
deluded  mankind.  That  he  had  not  divorced  a faithful  wife. 
That  he  had  not  developed  the  enormous  plans  of  self-idolatry, 
which  overthrew  the  hopes  of  the  friends  of  man,  and 
deluged  the  world  in  blood.  West  saw  in  him  a great  man, 
and  an  interesting  gentleman,  who  had  taste  for,  and  know- 
ledge of  the  arts,  in  which  the  painter  delighted  and  excelled. 
He  saw  him,  and  was  pleased.  It  is  said,  that  he  ventured  to 
recommend  to  Napolean,  the  example  of  Washington,  if  he  did 
so,  it  is  a greater  proof  of  his  simplicity  than  any  Galt  or  Cun- 
ningham have  recorded. 

Among  the  distinguished  visiters  of  Paris,  were  Charles 
Fox  and  Sir  Francis  Baring.  West  met  them  in  the  Louvre, 
and  expatiated  upon  the  advantages  which  the  arts  would  derive 
from  the  circumstance  of  the  chefs  d’oeuvres  of  the  world  being 
collected  in  one  place. 

“ He  concluded  by  pointing  out  the  propriety,  even  in  a 
mercantile  point  of  view,  of  encouraging  to  a sevenfold  extent 
the  higher  departments  of  art  in  England.  The  prospect  of 
commercial  advantages  pleased  Baring,  and  Fox  said,  with 
much  frankness,  and  with  that  sincerity  which  lasts  at  least  for 
the  moment,  ‘I  have  been  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  politics,  and 
never  before  was  so  much  struck  with  the  advantages,  even  in 
a political  bearing,  of  the  fine  arts,  to  the  prosperity  as  well 
as  to  the  renown  of  a kingdom;  and  I do  assure  you,  Mr. 
West,  if  ever  I have  it  in  my  power  to  influence  our  government 
to  promote  the  arts,  the  conversation  which  we  have  had  to- 
day shall  not  be  forgotten.’  They  parted,  and  West  returned 
to  England. 

“ Old  age  was  now  coming  on  him  ; but  his  gray  hairs  were 
denied  the  repose  which  a life  of  virtue  and  labour  deserved.” 
So  says  his  biographer,  Cunningham. 

The  academicians  who  had  bowed  to  the  president,  while 
he  was  the  favoured  of  the  court,  now  assailed  him  in  his  de- 
clining and  unprotected  age.  West  retired  from  the  presi- 
dent’s chair,  and  Wyatt  was  elected  in  his  stead.  “ This  dis- 
tinction!” says  Cunningham,  “the  court  architect  had  merit- 
ed by  no  works  which  could  be  weighed  in  the  balance  with 
the  worst  of  his  predecessor’s ; and  West  persuaded  himself 
that  his  own  splendid  reception  in  France  had  been  at  the 
root  of  all  the  evil.” 

Mr.  C unningham  goes  on  to  say,  “ In  a short  time,  how- 
ever, the  academy  became  weary  of  Wyatt,  displaced  him,  .and 
restored  the  painter,  by  a vote  which  may  be  called  unani 
mous;  since  there  was  only  one  dissenting  member — supposed 

1 1 


82 


Shee’s  opinion  of  West. 

to  be  F useli* — who  pat  in  the  name  of  Mrs.  Moser  for  president. 
Ladies  were  at  that  period  permitted  to  be  members,  and  the 
jester  no  doubt  meant  to  insinuate  that  a shrewd  old  woman 
was  a fit  rival  for  West.” 

So  much  for  Mr.  Fuseli.  West,  though  he  had  been  de- 
serted by  the  court  of  Great  Britain,  and  the  artists  of  the 
Royal  Academy, ' never  deserted  himself.  Those  who  had 
driven  him  from  the  president’s  chair,  we  hope,  were  ashamed 
of  their  dirty  work.  The  venerable  artist  regained  his  place 
at  the  head  of  the  academy,  (he  was  always  at  the  head  of  all 
its  artists,)  and  as  president  exerted  himself  for  the  benefit  of 
the  arts,  until  death  closed  his  virtuous  and  useful  career. 

Martin  Archer  Shee,  Esq.  in  his  excellent  work,  “ Elements 
of  Art,”  thus  speaks  of  West: 

“ The  claims  of  the  present  president  of  the  academy  are 
not  more  generally  understood  than  those  of  his  predecessor, 
and  his  merits  have  been  as  inadequately  appreciated  as  they 
have  been  rewarded  by  the  public.  Notwithstanding  the 
large  space  which  he  fills  in  his  art,  and  although  his  brethren 
have  justly  and  honourably  placed  him  at  their  head,  he  has 
good  ground  of  complaint,  against  the  undiscriminating  criti- 
cism of  his  day,  and  may  be  said  to  be,  in  a great  degree,  ‘ de- 
frauded of  his  fame.’  Posterity  will  see  him  in  his  merits  as 
well  as  his  defects  ; will  regard  him  as  a great  artist,  whose 
powers  place  him  high  in  the  scale  of  elevated  art ; whose  pen- 
cil has  maintained  with  dignity  the  historic  pretensions  of  his 
age,  and  whose  best  compositions  would  do  honour  to  any 
school  or  country.” 

The  same  artist  and  author  thus  speaks  of  the  encourage- 
ment afforded  by  the  public  to  this  great  painter: 

“ What  will  be  thought  of  the  protection  and  encourage- 
ment afforded  to  genius  in  this  great  and  wealthy  empire, 
when  it  is  stated,  that  the  unremitting  exertions  of  this  distin- 
guished artist,  in  the  higher  department  of  painting,  during 
the  period  of  forty-eight  years,  (almost  half  a century,)  have 
not,  exclusive  of  his  majesty’s  patronage,  produced  to  him  the 
sum  of  six  thousand  pounds!  ! !” 

He  endeavoured  “ to  form  a national  association  for  the 
encouragement  of  works  of  dignity  and  importance,  and  was 
cheered  with  the  assurance  of  ministerial,  if  not  royal,  patron- 
age. But  many  of  those  who  countenanced  the  design  were 
cautious  and  timid  men,  deficient  in  that  lofty  enthusiam  ne- 
cessary for  success  in  grand  undertakings,  and  whose  souls 

* Fuseli  avowed  that  the  vote  was  his  : saying  “ one  old  woman  is  as  good  as 
another.” 


83 


West's  letter  to  Peale. 


were  not  large  enough  to  conceive  and  consummate  a plan 
worthy  of  the  rank  and  genius  of  the  nation.  The  times,  too, 
were  unfavourable:  Englishmen  had  in  those  days  need 

enough  to  think  of  other  matters  than  paintings  and  statues. 
Mr.  Pitt,  who  had  really  seemed  disposed  to  lend  his  aid  to 
this  new  association,  soon  died.  Mr.  Fox,  who  succeeded 
him,  declared,  “ As  soon  as  I am  firmly  seated  in  the  saddle,  I 
shall  redeem  the  promise  I made  in  the  Louvre” — but  he  also 
was  soon  lost  to  his  country.  The  pistol  of  an  assassin  pre- 
vented Percival  from  taking  into  consideration  a third  memo- 
rial, which  West  had  drawn  up,  and  the  president  at  last  relin- 
quished the  project  in  despair.”  Yet  his  efforts  were  not  un- 
availing as  the  British  Institution  was  formed  out  of  the  wreck 
of  his  magnificent  plan. 

In  the  year  1809,  Mr.  West,  in  a letter  to  one  of  his  early 
pupils,  (Charles  Wilson  Peale,)  thus  expresses  himself: 

“ When  I was  in  Italy  in  the  year  1760,  the  stupendous  pro- 
ductions in  the  fine  arts  which  are  in  that  country,  rushed  on 
my  feelings  with  their  impetuous  novelty  and  grandeur  ; and 
their  progress  through  the  world  from  the  earliest  period,  ar- 
rested my  attention  when  I discovered  they  had  accompanied 
empire,  as  shade  does  the  body  when  it  is  most  illuminated, 
and  that  they  had  declined  both  in  Greece  and  Italy,  as  the 
ancient  splendour  of  those  countries  passed  away. 

“ In  England  L found  the  fine  arts,  as  connected  with  paint- 
ing and  sculpture,  had  not  taken  root ; but  that  there  were  great 
exertions  making  by  the  artists  to  prepare  the  soil,  and  sow 
the  seeds.  It  was  those  artists  who  invited  me  to  appear 
among  them,  with  a few  essays  of  my  historical  compositions 
in  their  annual  exhibitions  of  painting,  sculpture  and  archi- 
tecture. Those  exhibitions  became  an  object  of  attraction  to 
men  of  taste  in  the  fine  arts;  the  young  sovereign  was  interest- 
ed in  their  prosperity  ; and  the  artists  were  by  his  royal  char- 
ter raised  into  the  dignity,  the  independence,  and,  as  it  were, 
the  municipal  permanency  of  a body  corporate  ; in  which  body 
1 found  myself  a member,  and  a director ; but  party  and  jea- 
lousy in  two  or  three  years  interrupted  the  harmony  and  finally 
dissolved  that  society.  At  this  period  his  majesty  was  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  signify  his  commands  to  four  artists,  to  form 
a plan  for  a royal  academy,  in  which  number  l had  the  honour 
to  be  included.  His  majesty  was  graciously  pleased  to  ap- 
prove the  plan,  and  commanded  it  to  be  carried  into  effect. 
Thus  commenced  the  institution  of  the  Royal  Academy  of 
Arts  in  London.  An  institution  of  proud  importance  to  the 
sovereign  ; and  to  this,  as  a manufacturingcountry,  of  more  real 


84 


Subjects  worthy  of  the  pencil. 

and  solid  advantage  than  would  have  been  the  discovery  of 
gold  and  silver  mines  within  her  earth  ; as  it  taught  delinea- 
tion to  her  ingenious  men,  by  which  they  were  instructed  to 
give  taste  to  every  species  of  manufactories,  to  polish  rudeness 
into  elegance,  and  soften  massiveness  into  grace  ; and  which 
raised  the  demand  for  them  to  an  eminence  unknown  before  in 
all  the  markets  of  civilized  nations  throughout  the  world. 

“ At  that  time  the  breast  of  every  professional  man  glowed 
with  the  warmth  and  energy  of  genius,  at  the  establishment  of 
the  royal  academy,  and  at  the  pleasing  prospect  it  held  out  in 
the  higher  department  of  art — historical  painting.  The  expe- 
riment was  then  to  be  made,  whether  there  was  genius  in  the 
country  for  that  department  of  art,  and  patronage  to  nourish 
and  stimulate  it.  The  sovereign,  the  artist,  and  a few  gentle- 
men of  distinguished  taste  were  solicitous  for  its  success.  With 
respect  to  genius,  I have  to  speak  from  observation,  that  the 
distinguished  youths  who  have  passed  in  review  before  me 
since  the  establishment  of  the  academy,  in  the  three  depart- 
ments of  art  which  constitute  its  views,  would  have  been  found 
equal  to  attain  unrivalled  eminence  in  them  : and  I know  of 
no  people  since  the  Greeks  so  likely  to  attain  excellence  in 
the  arts  as  the  people  of  England  ; if  the  same  spirit  and  love 
for  them  were  diffused  and  cherished  among  them,  as  it  was 
among  the  subjects  in  the  Grecian  states. 

“Your  communication  respecting  your  son  being  about  to 
embark  again  for  France,  and  to  study  painting,  and  collect 
the  portraits  of  eminent  men  in  that  country  as  well  as  in 
other  parts  of  Europe,  gives  me  sincere  pleasure  ; I honour  his 
enterprise  ; but  I hope  he  will,  when  surrounded  by  the  great 
examples  which  are  now  at  Paris,  of  Grecian  and  Italian  art, 
I hope  he  will  direct  his  mind  to  what  are  their  real,  and  im- 
mutable excellencies,  and  reflect  upon  the  dignity  which  they 
give  to  man,  and  to  the  countries  where  they  were  produced. 
Although  1 am  friendly  to  portraying  eminent  men,  I am  not 
friendly  to  the  indiscriminate  waste  of  genius  in  portrait  paint- 
ing ; and  I do  hope  that  your  son  will  ever  bear  in  his  mind, 
that  the  art  of  painting  has  powers  to  dignify  man,  by  trans- 
mitting to  posterity  his  noble  actions,  and  his  mental  powers, 
to  be  viewed  in  those  invaluable  lessons  of  religion,  love  of 
country,  and  morality  ; such  subjects  are  worthy  of  the  pencil, 
they  are  worthy  of  being  placed  in  view  as  the  most  instructive 
records  to  a rising  generation.  And  as  an  artist,  I hope  he 
will  bear  in  his  mind,  that  correctness  of  outline,  and  the  just- 
ness of  character  in  the  human  figure  are  eternal ; all  other 
points  are  variable,  all  other  points  are  in  a degree  subordi- 


85 


The  healing  of  the  sick. 

nate  and  indifferent — such  as  colour,  manners  and  costume  : 
they  are  the  marks  of  various  nations:  but  the  form  of  man 
has  been  fixed  by  eternal  laws,  and  must  therefore  be  immuta- 
ble. It  was  to  those  points  that  the  philosophical  taste  of  the 
Greek  artists  was  directed ; and  their  figures  produced  on 
those  principles  leave  no  room  for  improvement,  their  excel- 
lencies are  eternal.” 


CHAPTER  V. 


The  great  picture  presented  by  West  to  the  Pennsylvania  Hospital — His  great 
pictures  for  exhibition— Death — Miscellaneous  notices — The  subjects  chosen 
for  his  pictures — His  character  by  Sir  Martin  Archer  Shee. 

The  undaunted  painter  now  between  sixty  and  seventy  years 
of  age,  commenced  a series  of  great  works  solely  relying  upon 
himself  for  their  success.  The  first  he  exhibited  to  the  public 
was  his  “ Christ  healing  the  sick,”  designed  as  a present  to 
the  hospital  of  the  metropolis  of  Pennsylvania,  his  native  state. 
A noble  memorial  of  his  love  to  the  country  of  his  birth,  and 
her  institutions.  Not  given  to  “aid  in  creating  a hospital 
for  the  sick  in  his  native  town,”  as  his  biographer  has  said,  for 
Philadelphia  was  not  his  native  town,  and  the  Pennsylvania 
Hospital  in  that  city,  had  been  built  and  in  operation  for  half 
a century. 

When  the  “Healing  of  the  Sick”  was  exhibited  in  London, 
the  rush  to  see  it  was  very  great,  and  the  praise  it  obtained 
very  high.  “ The  British  Institution,”  says  his  English  bio- 
grapher, “ offered  him  three  thousand  guineas  for  the  work  : 
West  accepted  the  offer,  for  he  was  far  from  being  rich, — but 
on  condition  that  he  should  be  allowed  to  make  a copy,  with 
alterations.”  This  copy,  with  not  only  alterations,  but  an 
additional  group,  was  received  by  the  trustees  of  the  hospital, 
and  placed  in  a building  erected  according  to  a plan  trans- 
mitted by  the  donor,  in  which  it  stands  a monument  to  his 
honour  as  a man  and  an  artist.  The  receipts  from  the  exhibi- 
tion in  the  first  year  after  its  arrival  were  four  thousand  dollars. 

We  are  sorry  to  record  any  thing  discreditable,  relative  to 
any  man  or  body  of  men,  but  we  will  not  hide  any  transaction 
connected  with  the  arts  or  artists  of  our  country  which  appears 
to  us  necessary  or  belonging  to  the  historical  memoirs  we  have 
undertaken.  We  know  that  Mr.  West,  when  he  made  this 
noble  present  to  the  Pennsylvania  Hospital,  intended  that  it 
should  be  free  to  students  and  artists,  for  he  justly  thought 


86 


West's  intention  counteracted . 


that  as  a model,  it  would  promote  the  progress  of  painting  in 
his  native  country.  He  expressed  this  wish  and  intention  to 
the  managers  of  the  hospital,  but  it  has  not  been  complied  with. 
It  is  the  only  exhibition  of  painting  in  the  United  States 
where  money  is  received  from  the  artist  or  the  student.  Yet 
this  is  the  free  gift  of  an  American  artist,  who  delighted  in 
pointing  the  way  to  excellence  in  the  arts.  We,  while  on  the 
subject,  will  object  to  these  managers,  that  they  do  not  give 
due  credit  to  the  picture  presented  to  them,  by  their  statements 
of  receipts  and  expenditures  in  its  exhibition.  They  charge 
against  the  receipts  from  the  picture  $14,000  for  the  building 
in  which  it  is  placed,  as  if  that  building  was  appropriated  to 
that  use  alone,  whereas  it  is  used  for  other  purposes  in  such 
manner  and  proportion,  as  ought  to  reduce  the  sum  to  one 
half.  We  hope  these  gentlemen  will  in  both  these  respects  do 
justice  to  their  benefactor. 

“ It  ought  to  be  known,  if  it  is  not,”  says  Mr.  Leslie,  in  one 
of  his  letters  to  us  from  West  Point,  “ that  at  the  time  Mr. 
West  made  his  noble  present  to  the  Pennsylvania  Hospital,  his 
pecuniary  affairs  were  by  no  means  in  a prosperous  condition. 
He  was  blamed  by  those  who  did  not  know  this,  for  selling  the 
first  picture  he  painted  for  them  ; but  he  redeemed  his  pledge 
to  them,  and  I can  bear  witness  of  his  great  satisfaction,  when 
he  heard  .that  the  exhibition  of  it  had  so  much  benefited  the 
institution.  He  had  begun  his  own  portrait  to  present  to  the 
hospital.  It  was  a whole  length  on  a mahogany  panne! ; he 
employed  me  to  dead  colour  it  for  him.  He  had  also  made 
a small  sketch  of  a picture  of  Dr.  Franklin,  to  present  with  it. 
The  doctor  was  seated  on  the  clouds,  surrounded  by  naked 
boys,  and  the  experiment  of  proving  lightning  and  electricity 
to  be  the  same  was  alluded  to.” 

The  success  of  the  Healing  in  the  Temple,  encouraged 
the  painter,  and  he  produced  in  rapid  succession,  “ ‘the 
Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  on  Christ  at  the  Jordan,’  ten  feet  by 
fourteen — ‘ The  Crucifixion,’  sixteen  feet  by  twenty-eight — 

*'  The  Ascension,’  twelve  feet  by  eighteen — and  ‘ The  Inspira- 
tion of  St.  Peter,’ of  corresponding  extent.’  ” The  great  paint- 
ing of  “ Christ  rejected,”  and  the  still  more  sublime  “ Death  on 
the  Pale  Horse,”  enlarged  and  altered  from  the  picture,  which 
he  had  carried  to  Paris  in  1802. 

“ Domestic  sorrow  mingled  with  professional  disappoint- 
ment. Elizabeth  Shewed- — for  more  than  fifty  years  his  kind 
and  tender  companion — died  on  the  6th  of  December,  1817, 
and  West,  seventy-nine  years  old,  felt  that  he  was  soon  to  fol- 
low. His  wife  and  he  had  loved  each  other  some  sixty  years 


87 


Death  of  West. 

— had  seen  their  children’s  children — and  the  world  had  no 
compensation  to  offer.  He  began  to  sink,  and  though  still  to 
be  found  at  his  esel,  his  hand  had  lost  its  early  alacrity.  It 
was  evident  that  all  this  was  to  cease  soon  ; that  he  was  suffer- 
ing a slow,  and  a general,  and  easy  decay.  The  venerable 
old  man  sat  in  his  study  among  his  favourite  pictures,  a breath- 
ing image  of  piety  and  contentment,  awaiting  calmly  the  hour 
of  his  dissolution.  Without  any  fixed  complaint,  his  mental 
faculties  unimpaired,  his  cheerfulness  uneclipsed,  and  with 
looks  serene  and  benevolent,  he  expired  11th  March,  1820, 
in  the  eighty-second  year  of  his  age.  He  was  buried  beside 
Reynolds,  Opie,  and  Barry,  in  St.  Paul’s  Cathedral.  The 
pall  was  borne  by  noblemen,  ambassadors,  and  academicians  ; 
his  two  sons  and  grandson  were  chief  mourners ; and  sixty 
coaches  brought  up  the  splendid  procession.” 

West  was  buried  in  St.  Pauls  Cathedral,  following  Barry, 
Reynolds  and  Vandyke  to  that  abode  of  the  illustrious  dead. 

Benjamin  West  was  not,  (as  his  biographer  has  asserted,) 
above  the  middle  size.  He  was  about  five  feet  eight  inches  in 
height.  Well  made  and  athletic.  His  complexion  was  re- 
markably fair.  His  eye  was  piercing.  Of  his  manners  and 
disposition  we  have  already  spoken,  but  may  be  allowed  to 
relate  an  anecdote  from  one  of  his  pupils.  He  had  frequently 
a levee  of  young  artists  asking  advice  on  their  productions, 
and  it  was  given  always  with  encouraging  amenity.  On  one 
occasion  a Camera  Lucida,  then  a new  thing,  had  been  left 
with  him  for  inspection  : it  was  the  first  he  had  ever  seen,  and 
Stuart  coming  in,  West  showed  it  to  him,  and  explained  its 
use.  Stuart’s  hand  was  always  tremulous.  He  tftok  the  deli- 
cate machine  for  examination,  let  it  fall,  and  it  was  dashed  to 
fragments  on  the  hearth.  Stuart  stood  with  his  back  to  West, 
looking  at  the  wreck  in  despair.  After  a short  silence,  the 
benevolent  man  said,  “Well,  Stuart,  you  may  asVell  pick  up  the 
pieces.”  This  was  of  course  in  early  life,  but  old  age  made 
no  change  in  him.  Mr.  Leslie  says,  “Mr.  West’s  readiness 
to  give  advice  and  assistance  to  artists  is  well  known.  Every 
morning  before  he  began  to  work  he  received  all  who  wished 
to  see  him.  A friend  of  mine  called  at  his  house  the  day  after 
his  death.  His  old  and  faithful  servant,  Robert,  opened  the 
door,  and  said,  with  a melancholy  shake  of  the  head,  “Ah,  sir  ! 
where  will  they  go  now  ?”  And  well  might  he  say  so;  for 
although  I can  affirm  with  truth,  that  I know'  of  no  eminent 
artist  in  London,  who  is  not  ready  to  communicate  instruction 
to  any  of  his  brethren  who  need  it,  yet  at  that  time  there  was 
certainly  no  one  so  accessible  as  Mr.  West,  and  I think  I may 


88  West’s  choice  of  subjects. 

say  so  admirably  qualified  to  give  advice  in  every  branch  of 
the  art. 

Ninety-eight  of  his  pictures  were  exhibited  in  a gallery  de- 
signed by  himself,  and  erected  by  his  heirs. 

Cunningham  says,  “ In  his  4 Death  on  the  Pale  Horse,’  and 
more  particularly  in  the  sketch  of  that  picture,  he  has  more 
than  approached  the  masters  and  princes  of  the  calling.  It  is, 
indeed,  irresistibly  fearful  to  see  the  triumphant  march  of  the 
terrific  phantom,  and  the  dissolution  of  all  that  earth  is  proud 
of  beneath  his  tread.  War  and  peace,  sorrow  and  joy,  youth 
and  age,  all  who  love  and  all  who  hate,  seem  planet-struck. 
The4  Death  of  Wolfe,’  too  is  natural  and  noble,  and  the  4 Indian 
chief,’  like  the  Oneida  warrior  of  Campbell, 

A stoic  of  the  woods,  a man  without  a tear, 

was  a happy  thought.  The  4 Battle  of  La  Hogue’  I have 
heard  praised  as  the  best  historic  picture  of  the  British  school, 
by  one  not  likely  to  be  mistaken,  and  who  would  not  say  what 
he  did  not  feel.  Many  ofhis  single  figures,  also,  are  of  a high 
order.  There  is  a natural  grace  in  the  looks  of  some  of  his 
women  which  few  painters  have  ever  excelled.” 

This  is  high  and  just  praise,  and  if  all  his  pictures  do  not 
deserve  equal,  it  by  no  means  lessens  the  claim  of  the  master. 
If  he  had  only  painted  his  earliest  and  his  latest  works,  they 
would  entitle  him  to  immortality,  and  a place  higher  than  any 
successor  has  yet  reached. 

West  was  generally  happy,  that  is  to  say  judicious,  in  his 
choice  of  subject. 

Few  painters  selected  subjects  with  so  much  judgment  as 
Benjamin  West.  The  number  of  his  works  create  almost  as 
much  admiration  as  their  excellence.  The  Old  and  the  New 
Testament  employed  his  pencil,  in  a series  of  pictures  em- 
bracing almost  every  prominent  event,  from  the  reception  of 
the  law  by  Moses  to  the  opening  of  the  seals — besides  many 
subjects  not  strictly  in  the  series,  from  the  history  of  the  patri- 
archs. The  Healing  in  the  Temple,  his  magnificent  present 
to  the  Pennsylvania  hospital,  will  remain  among  us  a monu- 
ment ofhis  patriotism  and  ofhis  genius.  His  paintings  from 
Grecian  and  Roman  history  are  exceedingly  numerous,  and 
would  alone  immortalize  him.  Of  modern  history  he  has  left 
us  almost  an  equal  number.  I will  mention  a few,  the  subjects 
of  which  answer  to  the  talent  displayed  in  their  execution. 
The  triumph  of  Rooke  over  James  II.,  a victory  which  secured 
the  revolution  of  1688,  and  that  liberty  which  England  has 


89 


The  Battle  of  La  Hogue. 

since  enjoyed.  The  Battle  of  La  Hogue  is  one  of  West’s 
best  pictures.  There  is  a remarkable  coincidence  in  the  gene- 
ral aspect  of  this  very  fine  painting,  with  a Dutch  picture  of 
the  triumph  of  De  Ruyter  in  the  Thames,  when  he  took  pos- 
session of  the  Royal  Charles,  burnt  several  ships  of  war,  and 
threw  the  kingdom  into  consternation.  The  engraving  (of  the 
same  size  of  West’s  and  Woollet’s  print)  is  entitled  “De  Be- 
roemde  Enderneming  op  de  Rivieren  van  London  en  Ro- 
chester,” and  it  is  marked  where  in  English  prints  the  paint- 
er’s name  is  given  “ Getekend  door  Dk.  Langendyk,  1782,” 
and  where  the  engraver’s  name  is  given  “ Gesneiden  door  M. 
de  Sallieth  te  Rotterdam  and  in  the  midway  between  these 
inscriptions  is  “ urt  gegeven  by  D.  Langendyk,  M.  de  Salli- 
eth en  Dirk  de  Yong  te  Rotterdam.”  West’s  and  Woollet’s 
print  was  published  the  18th  of  October,  1781  — — probably  the 
painting  made  five  or  more  years  before.  If  “ getekend 
door  Dk.  Langendyk,  1782,”  means  painted  by  Langendyk, 
at  that  date,  we  must  think  that  he  has  taken  a hint  from  West; 
but  although  there  is  a similarity  of  aspect,  and  somewhat  of 
incident,  the  figures  are  dissimilar.  The  dispositions  of  the 
ships  and  figures  are  reversed,  as  is  done  in  engraving;  the 
French  admiral’s  ship  in  Welt  is  to  the  right  of  the  spectator, 
and  the  “ Royal  Charles”  to  the  left  In  the  Dutch  picture— 
Sir  George  Rooke  and  de  Ruyter  change  sides, -and  so  of  the 
prominent  groups.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  West’s  picture  is 
incomparably  the  best;  still  the  picture  of  Mynheer  Dk.  Lan- 
gendyk, if  he  be  the  painter,  is  a fine,  spirited  composition, 
with  very  little  of  the  beau  ideal , and  much  of  nature.  It  is 
suggested  that  the  Dutch  picture  was  painted  shortly  after  the 
affair  represented,  and  the  print  perhaps  engraved,  but  the 
publication  suspended  (as  a peace-offering  to  England)  when 
peace  took  place  ; but  after  the  declaration  of  war  and  du- 
ring our  revolutionary  struggle,  the  print  was  published. 
According  to  this  hypothesis,  West  may  have  seen  a proof  of 
the  Dutch  print,  or  had  a sight  of  the  painting,  before  making 
his  great  picture  of  La  Hogue.  It  will  be  remembered, , that 
during  the  war  between  England  and  Holland,  in  16G7,  De 
Ruyter  and  De  Witt  entered  the  Thames,  burned  a number 
of  ships  of  war,  at  least  six,  gained  possession  of  the  Royal 
Charles,  and  inflicted  disgrace  upon  the  navy  of  England, 
and  terror  upon  the  people.  The  peace  of  Breda  followed 
soon  after;  but  in  the  year  1669,  the  infamous  Charles  being 
purchased  by  Louis  XIV.,  and  acting  under  his  orders  as  his 
pensioner,  prepared  for  a declaration  of  war  against  Holland, 
by  ordering  his  admiral,  Holmes,  to  attack  the  Dutch  Smyrna 


90 


Piratical  act  of  Charles  II. 

fleet,  sailing  under  the  faith  of  treaties  in  time  of  peace  with 
England.  When  the  English  admiral,  who  had  been  ordered 
on  this  piratical  expedition,  fell  in  with  the  Dutch  fleet,  he, 
with  every  appearance  of  friendship,  invited  Admiral  Van 
Ness  to  come  on  board,  and  with  the  same  insidious  show  of 
friendship,  the  Dutch  rear  admiral  was  complimented  with  an 
invitation  by  another  officer  of  the  British  squadron.  The 
wary  Hollanders  were  not  so  te  be  caught  by  Jthe  satellites  of 
a faithless  monarch.  They  declined  the  honour,  and  Holmes, 
failing  in  the  attempt  as  a hypocrite,  threw  off  the  mask,  and 
in  his  character  of  pirate  attacked  the  gallant  and  wary  Van 
Ness.  Twice  the  Dutchman  valiantly  beat  off  the  pirates  ; 
but  in  a third  attack  lost  one  ship  of  war  and  three  inconsi- 
derable merchantmen,  out  of  a fleet  of  seventy ; the  remainder, 
under  the  protection  of  their  brave  admiral,  were  convoyed 
safe  into  port.  The  vile  Charles,  in  obedience  to  his  master, 
immediately  issued  a declaration  of  war  ; “ and  surely,”  says 
Hume,  the  apologist  of  the  Stuarts,  u surely  reasons  more  false 
and  frivolous  never  where  employed  to  justify  a flagrant  viola- 
tion of  treaty.”  Among  “ the  pretensions,  some  abusive  pic- 
tures are  mentioned,  and  represented  as  a ground  of  quarrel. 
The  Dutch  were  long  at  a loss  what  to  make  of  this  article, 
till  it  was  discovered  that  a portrait  of  Cornelius  De  Witt, 
brother  to  the  pensioner,  painted  by  the  order  of  certain  ma- 
gistrates of  Dort,  and  hung  up  in  a chamber  of  the  town- 
house,  had  given  occasion  to  the  complaint.  In  the  perspec- 
tive of  this  portrait  the  painter  had  drawn  some  ships  on  fire  in 
a harbour.  This  was  construed  to  be  Chatham,  where  De 
Witt  had  signally  distinguished  himself,  and  had  acquired 
honour;  but  little  did  he  imagine,  that  while  the  insult  itself, 
committed  in  open  war,  had  so  long  been  forgiven,  the  pic- 
ture of  it  should  draw  such  severe  vengeance  upon  his  coun- 
try.” Thus  far  Hume  ; but  it  appears  to. us  that  the  philoso- 
pher might  with  more  justice  have  said,  “Little  did  he  think, 
that  a gallant  nation  would  suffer  a mean  and  licentious  tyrant 
to  lead  them  into  an  unjust  war,  on  pretences  so  utterly  un- 
founded;” for  surely  it  was  not  vengeance,  poor  as  that  mo- 
tive is,  which  actuated  the  British  monarch  and  his  base  mi- 
nistry, but  the  desire  to  promote  the  views  of  a master  whose 
treasures  furnished  the  means  of  gratifying  appetite.  The  con- 
sequence of  this  war,  begun  m piracy  and  justified  by  falsehood, 
was  not  only  the  destruction  of  brave  men  of  both  nations,  but 
the  triumph  of  the  injured  Hollanders,  who  again  and  again 
defeated  the  fleets  of  France  and  England,  combined  against 
them.  Charles,  in  1674,  graciously  condescended  to  hear  the 


91 


Dirk  Langendyk. 

voice  of  the  English  people,  and  give  them  peace  with  Hol- 
land, having  no  resources  wherewith  to  carry  on  the  war. 

It  is  only  as  connected  with  these  pictures,  the  “ La  Hogue” 
of  West  and  the  “ Beroemde  Enderneming  op  de  Rivieren 
van  London”  of  Dirk  Langendyk,  that  we  recall  this  portion 
of  history.  From  the  year  1674  to  1780,  England  and  Hol- 
land continued  in  peace;  and  as  pictures  could  be  made  pre- 
tences for  a war,  the  strict  police  of  the  Dutch  would  doubt- 
less prohibit  such  a print  as  that  published  by  Langendyk, 
Sallieth,  and  Yong,  during  this  century  of  quiet,  and  espe- 
cially as  the  power  of  England  and  her  jealousy  of  her  naval 
honour  were  daily  increasing ; but  when  the  Dutch  again 
became  the  opponents  of  Britain,  and  displayed  the  flag  of 
defiance,  it  was  natural  for  the  painters  and  engravers  to  take 
advantage  of  these  hostile  feelings,  and  to  animate  the  courage 
of  their  countrymen  by  reminding  them  of  the  triumph  of  De 
Rioter  and  De  Witt  on  the  Thames,  when  the  Dutch  flag  not 
only  floated  the  narrow  seas,  but  floated  in  triumph  over  the 
hull  of  the  Royal  Charles.  West  had  painted,  probably  in 
1774  or  5,  his  Battle  ofLa  Hogue,  and  Woollet  had  engraved 
it  in  time  to  be  published  in  1781.  Proofs  before  the  publica- 
tion of  the  engraving  might  have  been  seen  by  Langendyk,  or 
even  West’s  painting  at  an  earlier  period  ; and  to  compose  his 
picture  on  the  plan  of  the  Battle  of  La  Hogue  would  readily 
be  suggested.  De  Witt’s  portrait  at  Dort  furnished  part  of 
the  material,  and  he  is  placed  by  the  side  of  De  Ruyter  ; these 
two  heroes  corresponding  to  West’s  Sir  George  Rooke.  In- 
stead of  the  French  admiral’s  ship,  we  have  the  Royal  Charles, 
and  in  the  spirit  of  Hogarth  we  see  a Dutch  cabin-boy  waving 
the  flag  of  his  country  over  the  image  of  the  king  which  decor- 
ates the  stern.  We  repeat,  both  pictures  are  original,  and 
West’s  far  the  best;  but  Langendyk  is  full  of  spirit  and  truth, 
the  tamest  part  being  the  portraits  of  the  two  heroes,  De  Ruyter 
and  De  Witt:  while  on  the  other  hand  West’s  hero  is  clothed 
in  grandeur  and  dignity,  becoming  the  leader  whose  valour 
confirmed  the  constitutional  freedom  of  his  country  by  destroy- 
ing the  power  and  almost  the  hopes  of  the  Stuarts. 

Penn’s  Treaty  with  the  Indians  is  another  of  his  happy 
subjects.  William  Penn  rested  his  empire  on  justice  and 
liberty  of  conscience.  Brute  force  had  no  agency  in  its  foun- 
dation, neither  was  it  cemented  by  the  blood  of  his  fellow-crea- 
tures. West’s  pictures  from  Shakspeare  and  other  poets  are 
well  known.  I will  mention  a picture  by  him  connected  with 
this  country , of  more  importance  to  civil  and  religious  liberty, 
than  even  the  victorv  of  La  Hogue,  or  the  benevolent  Treatv 


92 


Consequences  of  the  battle  of  Quebec. 


of  Penn— the  Death  of  Wolfe.  This  is  not  only  one  of  the 
best  historical  compositions  of  a great  master,  but  it  is  one  of 
the  very  best  subjects  for  the  historical  painter,  according  to 
my  view  of  the  utility  of  the  art.  It  records  one  of  those 
events  which  has  produced  incalculable  good  to  the  human 
race.  It  would  not  be  too  much  to  ascribe  to  the  victory  of 
the  plains  of  Abraham,  the  blessings  we  enjoy  under  our  un- 
paralleled constitution,  the  effects  of  example  upon  the  ex- 
isting civilized  world,  and  upon  millions  on  millions  yet  un- 
born. It  may  appear,  at  first  sight,  wild  to  attribute  such 
mighty  consequences  to  a battle  gained  in  Canada  by  a few 
English  over  a few  French  soldiers;  but  when  we  recol- 
lect that  the  power  of  France,  under  a despotic  govern- 
ment, had  been  exerted  successfully  to  extend  her  armies  and 
her  fortresses,  from  Hudson’s  bay  and  the  St.  Lawrence  to 
the  Mississippi  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  ; that  an  enslaving 
and  soul-debasing  government  was  extending,  link  after  link, 
a chain,  made  stronger  day  after  day  with  systematic  perse- 
verance and  admirable  skill,  and  was  inclosing,  as  in  a net  of 
steel,  all  the  descendants  of  the  English  republicans  who  had 
sought  refuge  on  the  shores  of  this  continent ; a net  which 
would  have  made  all  this  fair  territory  a province  of  a des- 
potic monarchy,  instead  of  what  it  now  is — the  greatest  repub- 
lic the  world  ever  saw  ; when  we  remember  that  all  the  strug- 
gles of  the  provincials,  aided  by  the  armies  of  England,  had 
been  for  years  rendered  vain  by  the  military  skill  and  power 
of  France;  when  we  call  to  mind  the  bloody  and  disastrous 
battles  fought  on  the  banks  of  Lake  Champlain  and  Lake 
George,  the  defeat  of  Braddock,  and  the  unceasing  encroach- 
ments of  the  triumphant  enemy — and  rememberthat  the  vic- 
tory of  Wolfe,  by  breaking  the  charm  and  the  chain,  made  of 
all  America  a land  of  freedom — we  may  be  justified,  perhaps, 
in  attributing  such  consequences  to  Wolfe’s  victory. 

By  a curious  calculation,  it  was  ascertained  that  to  contain 
ail  West’s  pictures,  a gallery  would  be  necessary  four  hundred 
feet  long,  fifty  broad,  and  forty  high. 

Bell’s  Weekly  Messenger  gives  an  account  of  the  third  and 
final  day’s  sale  of  the  gallery  of  West’s  pictures.  The  grand 
total  of  the  sale,  amounted  to  <£25,040  12s.  Among  those  sold 
were  the  following  : “ Christ  Rejected  ;”  it  w as  bought  by  Mr. 
Smith  for  3,000  guineas,  on  account,  as  was  whispered  in  the 
room,  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  “ Death  on  the  Pale  Horse,” 
painted  when  Mr.  West  had  nearly  accomplished  his  eightieth 
year,  was  bought  by  a gentleman  by  the  name  of  Kirshaw,  for 
2,000  guineas.  “ The  Death  of  Lord  Nelson,”  850  guineas. 


93 


Benjamin  West's  character \ 

“ The  Death  of  General  Wolfe,”  500  guineas,  bought  by  J. 
Monkton,  Esq.,  of  Portman  square.  (Is  this  a descendant  of 
the  general,  who  is  one  of  the  principal  figures?)  ‘‘Battle  of 
La  Hogue,”  370  guineas.  (These  last  two  must  have  been 
copies.)  “ Moses  receiving  the  Laws,”  500  guineas.  “ The 
Ascension  of  our  Saviour,”  200  guineas  : and  a number  of 
others,  which  sold  for  from  200  down  to  17  guineas.  Lords 
Egremont  and  Amherst  bought  several.* 

We  will  subjoin  the  following  respecting  this  excellent 
painter.  In  a letter  to  us  from  Mr.  Allston,  he  says:  “ To 
Mr.  West’s  character  as  a man,  I will  add  the  following  affect- 
ing testimony  of  his  wife,  a few  years  before  her  death.  Speak- 
ing of  him  to  a lady,  a particular  friend  of  mine,  she  said, 

‘ Ah,  he  is  a good  man  ; he  never  had  a vice.’  Mrs.  West  was 
then  suffering  under  a paralysis,  and  could  scarcely  articu- 
late. Such  testimony,  from  one  who  had  been  for  more  than 
Half  a century  his  most  intimate  companion,  is  worth  more 
than  a volume  of  eulogy.” 

It  remained  for  us  to  conclude  the  biography  of  Benjamin 
West,  by  a review  of  his  character  as  a painter  and  a man.  It 
was  an  imperative  duty  in  the  author  of  this  work,  as  an  artist, 
a man,  and  an  American  ; but  he  is  pleased  to  have  been  anti- 
cipated by  an  artist  of  higher  authority,  and  a writer  of  more 
celebrity  ; and  still  more  gratified  that  justice  has  been  done 
to  our  great  countryman  by  an  Englishman.  Instead  of  our 
remarks,  w7e  will  substitute  those  of  Sir  Martin  Archer  Shee, 
now  the  president  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  England  : 

“ The  example  set  by  Reynolds  was  not  lost  upon  his  emi- 
nent successors ; and  the  distinguished  artist,  w ho  was  next 
appointed  to  this  chair,  hesitated  not  to  co-operate,  in  like 
manner,  with  the  able  professors  of  the  Academy,  in  the  office 
of  instruction.  The  discourses  of  President  West  bear  ample 
testimony  to  the  zeal  and  knowledge  which  he  brought  to  the 
performance  of  a task,  rendered  as  arduous  as  it  was  honour- 
able, by  the  extraordinary  ability  with  which  it  had  been  pre- 
viously executed. 

“ Well  grounded  in  the  elementary  principles  of  his  profes- 
sion, he  was  as  conversant  with  the  theory,  as  he  was  dexterous 
in  the  practice  of  his  art.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  of  him, 
that  in  the  exercise  of  those  powers  of  the  pencil,  to  the  attain- 
ment of  which  his  ambition  more  particularly  directed  him,  he 
w as  unrivalled  in  his  day.  Such,  indeed,  was  the  facility  of 
his  hand,  and  with  so  much  certainty  did  he  proceed  in  his 

♦ The  Christ  Rejected  and  Death  on  the  Pale  Horse  were  bought  in  for  West’s 
sons. 


94 


West's  liberality. 


operations,  that  he  rarely  failed  to  achieve  whatever  he  pro- 
posed to  accomplish,  and  within  the  time  which  he  had  allotted 
for  its  performance. 

“ Indefatigable  application  and  irrepressible  ardour  in  his  pur- 
suit, succeeded  in  obtaining  for  him  that  general  knowledge  of 
his  subject,  which  seldom  fails  to  reward  the  toils  of  resolute 
and  well-directed  study.  No  artist  of  his  time,  perhaps,  was 
better  acquainted  with  the  powers  and  the  expedients,  the  exi- 
gencies and  the  resources  of  his  art.  No  man  could  more 
sagaciously  estimate  the  qualities  of  a fine  picture,  or  more 
skilfully  analyze  the  merits  combined  in  its  production.  If  you 
found  yourself  embarrassed  in  the  conduct  of  your  work,  and 
you  consulted  him,  he  would  at  once  show  you  where  it  failed, 
and  why  it  failed.  Like  a skilful  physician,  he  announced  with 
precision  the  nature  of  the  disease,  and  could  suggest  the 
remedy,  even  where  he  was  not  himself  qualified  to  admi- 
nister it. 

“ The  qualities  which  distinguished  him,  both  as  a man  and 
as  an  artist,  were,  perhaps,  not  a little  influenced  by  the  pecu- 
liar religious  impressions  which  he  had  early  received.  Order, 
calmness,  and  regularity  characterized  him  through  all  the 
relations  of  life.  In  his  habits  of  investigation,  there  was 
nothing  loose,  desultory,  or  digressive.  The  stores  of  know- 
ledge which  study  and  experience  enabled  him  to  lay  up,  were 
immediately  classed  and  ticketed  for  use  ; and  the  results  of 
his  observations  he  diligently  endeavoured  to  compress  into 
principles,  whenever  they  would  admit  of  so  advantageous  a 
reduction  ; the  natural  turn  of  his  mind  leading  him  to  repress, 
within  the  strict  limits  of  system  and  science,  the  arbitrary,  irre- 
gular, and  eccentric  movements  of  genius  and  taste. 

il  No  man  could  be  more  liberally  desirous  than  West  to 
impart  to  others  the  knowledge  which  he  possessed.  He  never, 
indeed,  appeared  to  be  more  gratified  than  when  engaged  in 
enlightening  the  minds  of  those  who  looked  up  to  him  for  in- 
struction ; and  though,  in  following  the  path  of  precept  mark- 
ed out  by  his  great  predecessor,  and  communicating  the  lessons 
of  his  experience  in  a similar  way,  he  does  not  approach  to  a 
rivalry  with  Reynolds  as  a teacher  of  his  art;  though  his  pen 
was  not  so  ready  as  his  pencil,  and  cannot  be  said  to  display 
the  graces  of  language  and  style  which  distinguish  the  compo- 
sitions of  that  eminent  writer,  yet  the  discourses  of  President 
W est,  delivered  from  this  place,  must  be  acknowledged  to 
contain  many  ingenious  remarks  and  much  useful  information. 
They  evince  an  ardent  enthusiasm  for  the  honour  and  interests 
of  his  profession,  and  a laudable  zeal  to  recommend  the  just 


His  merit  not  duly  appreciated.  95 

claims  of  the  arts  to  the  respect  and  protection  of  our 
country. 

“ It  is  impossible  to  review  the  character  and  professional 
powers  of  this  able  artist,  without  the  strongest  sense  of  regret 
that  they  are  so  inadequately  understood  and  appreciated  in 
this  country,  even  at  this  day.  The  spirit  of  criticism  preva- 
lent among  us,  which,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  not  generally  too 
indulgent  to  the  imperfections  of  modern  art,  has  shown  itself, 
in  his  case,  more  than  usually  fastidious  and  severe.  The 
high  aims  of  his  pencil,  which  might  reasonably  be  expected  to 
propitiate  the  community  of  taste,  have  procured  for  him  no 
favour.  He  is  unsparingl}7  censured  where  he  fails,  and  is 
allowed  little  credit  where  he  has  succeeded.  He  is  tried,  not 
by  his  merits,  but  by  his  defects,  and  judged  before  a tribunal 
which  admits  only  the  evidence  against  him.  His  profession, 
indeed,  have  always  done  him  justice ; and  they  manifested 
their  sense  of  his  claims  by  the  station  in  which  they  placed 
him.  But  few  artists  have  been  less  favoured  by  fortune,  or 
more  ungenerously  defrauded  of  their  fame.  It  has  been  un- 
reservedly stated  on  his  own  authority,  that  the  remuneration 
of  his  labours,  from  the  patronage  of  the  public , during  the 
space  of  forty-five  years,  was  so  inadequate  to  his  very  mode- 
rate wants,  as  to  leave  him  dependent  on  the  income  allowed 
him  as  historical  painter  to  his  royal  patron  George  the  Third, 
for  the  means  of  living  in  this  country. 

“ It  is  melancholy  to  reflect,  that  in  consequence  of  this 
resource  having  been  unexpectedly  withdrawn  from  him,  very 
late  in  life,  and  at  a period  when  his  royal  protector  must  have 
been  unconscious  of  such  a proceeding,  the  close  of  his  lone1 
and  laborious  career  was  embittered  by  pecuniary  embarrass- 
ment. But  his  enthusiasm  for  his  art  never  for  a moment 
failed  under  his  disappointments.  The  spring  of  his  mind 
never  once  gave  way;  and  nearly  to  the  latest  hour  of  an 
existence  prolonged  beyond  the  period  usually  assigned  to  the 
age  of  man,  lie  was  occupied  in  projecting  works  sufficiently 
extensive  to  startle  the  enterprise  of  youth,  and  demand  the 
exertion  of  the  most  vigorous  manhood. 

“ Unfortunately,  however,  West  did  not  possess,  in  a suffi- 
cient degree,  those  qualities  of  art  which  are  the  most  popular 
amongst  us.  The  captivations  of  colour,  chiar ’ oscuro , and 
execution,  which  the  English  school  displays  in  such  perfec- 
tion, were  wanting  to  set  off  his  productions;  and  the  merits 
of  a higher  order  which  they  contained,  appealed  to,  and  re- 
quired the  exercise  of  a belter  informed  and  more  compre- 
hensive judgment  than  the  taste  of  his  time  could  in  genera] 
supply. 


96 


West's  high  estimation  of  art. 


“ So  little  impression,  indeed,  had  his  various  powers  left 
upon  the  public  mind,  after  the  toils  of  more  than  half  a cen- 
tury, that  a collection  of  his  pictures,  formed  after  his  death  by 
his  family,  containing  many  of  his  finest  works,  and  arranged 
with  peculiar  judgment  and  taste,  had  scarcely  sufficient  at- 
traction for  the  admirers  of  art  in  this  great  metropolis,  to  de- 
fray the  expenses  attending  their  exhibition. 

“The  defects  of  West  were  obvious  to  the  most  common 
observer  of  his  works.  Every  small  critic  could  talk  of  the 
hardness  of  his  outline,  the*  dryness  of  his  manner,  and  the 
absence  of  what  may  be  called  those  surface  sweets  which  are 
so  highly  prized,  under  the  name  of  execution,  by  that  class  of 
artists  and  connoisseurs  who  think  more  of  the  means  than  of 
the  end,  in  contemplating  a work  of  art.  But  it  demanded 
greater  knowledge  of  the  subject  than  is  commonly  found 
amongst  the  ordinary  dispensers  of  fame  in  this  country,  to  ap- 
preciate his  various  acquirements  ; — his  powers  of  composi- 
tion ; — his  general  facility  of  design  — his  masterly  treatment 
of  extensive  subjects,  where,  in  pouring  a population  on  his 
canvass,  the  resources  of  an  artist’s  imagination  are  put  to  the 
test ; — the  scientific  construction  and  arrangement  of  his 
groupes,  and  the  appropriate  action  and  occupation  of  the 
different  figures  of  which  they  are  composed.  Yet  all  these 
are  qualities  which  rank  high  in  the  scale  by  which  it  is  usual 
to  estimate  the  comparative  claims  of  a painter.  We  must 
take  care  not  to  lose  sight  of  the  standard  by  which  the  rela- 
tive merits  of  our  art  are  to  be  measured.  In  proportion  as 
the  intellectual  is  combined  with  the  mechanical,  do  we  value 
those  productions  of  man  which  are  not  appropriated  to  the 
purposes  of  manufacture,  or  the  ordinary  accommodations  of 
life. 

“ Invention,  composition,  design,  character,  and  expression 
have  always  taken  precedence  of  colouring,  chiaf  oscuro , and 
execution,  in  the  estimation  of  the  judicious  critic  ; though 
excellence  in  the  latter  qualities  may  be  justly  preferred  to 
mediocrity  in  the  former.  We  may,  from  local  prejudice,  or 
personal  peculiarity,  prefer  silver  to  gold,  or  a pebble  to  a dia- 
mond ; but  if  we  reverse  in  our  notions  the  relative  value, 
which,  by  common  consent,  has  been  assigned  to  these  objects, 
our  judgment  will  be  considered  not  only  erroneous,  but 
diseased. 

“ The  ambition  of  West  directed  him  to  the  highest  depart- 
ment of  his  art.  In  his  hands  the  pencil  was  always  employ- 
ed for  the  noblest  purposes, — on  subjects  the  moral  interest  of 
which  outweighs  their  mechanical  execution.  He  delighted 


97 


Prints  f rom  West's  works. 

to  commemorate  heroic  deeds,  to  illustrate  the  annals  of  sacred 
history,  and  perpetuate  the  triumphs  of  patriotism  and  public 
virtue. 

“ If  we  applaud  the  exalted  spirit  which  prompted  him  to 
devote  his  talents  to  such  praiseworthy  objects,  shall  we  not 
also  offer  the  just  tribute  of  our  admiration  to  the  enlightened 
monarch  who  encouraged  and  sustained  his  labours  ; who,  by 
liberally  endeavouring  to  reopen  the  church  to  the  arts, 
sought  to  procure  for  them  a new  source  of  employment  in 
this  country,  and  who,  as  far  as  in  him  Jay,  set  an  example  of 
generous  patronage  of  the  arts  to  the  great  and  powerful  of 
his  day,  which,  if  it  had  been  followed  with  corresponding 
zeal  and  patriotism,  could  not  have  failed  to  obtain  for  Great 
Britain  all  the  glory  which  pre-eminence  in  arts  can  shed  upon 
a state  ? 

“ The  degree  of  success  with  which  the  honourable  exertions 
of  West  were  attended,  may,  I conceive,  be  fairly  determined 
by  this  test : let  the  most  prejudiced  of  those  who  are  inclined 
to  question  his  claims  to  the  rank  of  a great  artist  examine  the 
series  of  prints  engraved  from  his  works.  I would,  in  particu- 
lar, entreat  them  to  view  with  some  attention,  the  Death  of 
General  Wolfe, — the  Battles  of  La  Hogue  and  the  Boyne, — 
the  Return  of  Regulus  to  Carthage, — Agrippina  bearing  the 
ashes  of  Germanicus, — the  young  Hannibal  swearing  eternal 
enmity  to  the  Romans, — the  Death  of  Epaminondas, — the 
Death  of  the  Chevalier  Bayard, — Pyrrhus,  when  a boy,  brought 
to  Glaucus,  king  of  Illyria,  for  protection, — and  Penn’s 
treaty  with  the  Indians ; not  to  mention  many  others,  perhaps 
equally  deserving  of  enumeration.  Let  these  well-known 
examples  of  his  ability  be  candidly  considered,  and  where  is 
the  artist,  whose  mind  is  enlarged  beyond  the  narrow  sphere 
of  his  own  peculiar  practice, — where  is  the  connoisseur,  whose 
taste  has  not  been  formed  by  a catalogue  raisonne,  or  in  tin 
atmosphere  of  an  auction-room, — who  w ill  hesitate  to  acknow* 
ledge  that  the  author  of  such  noble  compositions  may  justly 
claim  a higher  station  in  his  profession  than  has  been  hitherto 
assigned  to  him,  and  well  merits  to  be  considered,  in  his  pecu- 
liar department,  the  most  distinguished  artist  of  the  age  in 
which  he  lived 


* “In  support  of  the  humble  attempt  here  made  to  render  justice  to  the  profes- 
sional character  and  talents  of  West,  it  is  a gratification  to  the  author  to  be  able 
to  adduce  the  corroborative  testimony  of  the  highest  artist  and  amateur  authori- 
ties of  our  day : 

“ ‘ His  (West’s)  power  at  his  advanced  age  is  beyond  all  example  ; and  my 
visit  to  the  continent  has  given  me  a still  higher  opinion  of  his  great  talents  and 

13 


98 


Duffield,  Claypoole , Pratt . 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Edward  Duffield— Matthew  Pratt— Pratt  the  schoolmate  and  friend  of  West— 
Accompanies  Miss  Shewed  to  England— Studies  with  West— Generosity  of 
Pratt  to  a strangerin  distress— Merit  as  a painter— His  sign- painting— Copley, 
his  origin— Not  self-taught— Great  excellence  before  going  to  Europe— Cun- 
ningham’s memoir  of  him— Communication  from  G.  C.  Verplanck,  Esq.— Cop- 
ley established  in  London— His  historical  pictures. 

EDWARD  DUFFIELD— 1775, 
is  brought  to  our  knowledge  by  our  friend  John  F.  Watson, 
author  of  Annals  of  Philadelphia,  &c.  Mr.  Duffield  designed 
and  executed  several  medals  in  1756—7. 

JAMES  CLAYPOOLE— 1756, 

I only  know  as  the  teacher  of 

MATTHEW  PRATT— 1758. 

Matthew  Pratt,  the  subject  of  this  notice,  was  born  in  Phi- 
ladelphia, on  the  23d  September,  1734;  and  though  he  could 
not  boast  a noble  line  of  ancestry,  he  was  aware  that  his  an- 
cestors, for  near  a century,  had  been  honest  and  reputable 
householders.  His  father  was  a goldsmith,  and  served  his 
time  with  Philip  Syng,  jr.,  the  grandfather  of  the  present 
Dr.  P.  S.  Physick.  Atihistime  a company  of  associates  was 
formed,  of  which  Dr.  Franklin  was  the  head,  and  from  them 
emanated  the  Philadelphia  Library,  for  which  they  procured 
a charter.  Apartments  were  provided  for  it  in  the  state-house. 
Matthew  Pratt  received  such  an  education  as  the  common 
schools  in  the  city  afforded,  and  at  the  age  of  fifteen  was 
placed  an  apprentice  to  his  uncle,  James  Claypoole,  from  whom 
(to  use  his  own  words)  he  learned  all  the  different  branches 
of  the  painting  business,  particularly  portrait-painting,  which 
was  his  favourite  study  from  ten  years  of  age.  This  allusion 
to  the  different  branches  of  the  painting  business,  shows  plainly 
the  degraded  state  in  which  the  arts  were  at  that  time  in  this 
country. 

Passing  over  the  period  of  his  apprenticeship,  and  two 
years  during  w hich  he  followed  his  profession  in  Philadelphia, 
we  find  him,  in  October,  1757,  embarking  on  board  a small 


knowledge  of  his  art  than  I before  had,  and  this,  from  comparison  with  the  works 
of  the  great  masters' — Sir  Thomas  Lawrence' s letter  to  Mr.  Lysons,  from  Rome. 

“ ‘When  we  consider  the  determined  perseverance  he  (West)  showed  to  per- 
sist in  the  high  walk  he  had  at  first  chosen,  though  there  was  not  a grain  of  taste  for 
it  in  the  country  at  that  time,  it  does  him  the  highest  honour,  and  I am  ashamed  of 
the  recent  ungrateful  neglect  of  my  countrymen , — it  surprised  and  grieved  me  ' — 
Letter  of  Sir  George  Beaumont  to  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence." 


99 


Pratt  officiates  as  father  of  Miss  Shewell. 

vessel  for  the  island  of  Jamaica,  having  ventured  a great  part 
of  his  property  in  a mercantile  speculation.  Of  the  vessel  in 
which  he  sailed,  Enoch  Hobart,  who  married  his  sister,  was 
commander,  and  who  was  father  to  the  late  Right  Reverend 
Bishop  Hobart,  of  New7-York.  His  abandoning  the  arts  at  this 
time  is  not  to  be  looked  upon  as  an  evidence  of  his  want  of 
encouragement,  but  as  a disposition  to  see  the  world.  The 
voyage  to  Jamaica,  however,  in  a pecuniary  point  of  view, 
was  not  very  successful.  They  were  captured  and  plundered 
near  St.  Lucia,  by  a French  privateer,  and  after  a week’s  de- 
tention were  retaken  by  a British  ship.  The  result  of  this 
adventure  was  an  agreeable  residence  of  six  months  in  Ja- 
maica ; and  he  did  not  reach  home  until  late  in  1758.  He 
now,  for  the  first  time,  regularly  pursued  portrait-painting,  and 
met  with  the  most  perfect  success,  giving  general  satisfaction 
to  his  employers,  and  receiving  an  ample  reward. 

In  1760  he  married  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Charles 
Moore,  merchant,  of  Philadelphia,  and  four  years  after  he 
prepared  for  his  departure  for  England. 

It  is  now  for  the  first  time  that  the  manuscript  from  which  I 
compiled  this  sketch  speaks  of  Benjamin  West.  When  or 
how  the  friendship  between  them  commenced,  I am  unable  to 
determine  ; but  from  his  journal  it  appears  that  Mr.  West  had 
entered  into  a matrimonial  engagement,  three  years  previous, 
with  Miss  Betsey  Shewell,  a relation  of  Mr.  Pratt’s  father, 
and  the  present  voyage  was  made  in  company  with  Miss 
Shewell  and  Mr.  West’s  father,  for  the  purpose  of  terminating 
that  engagement  by  marriage.  The  passage  out  was  speedy 
and  pleasant — twenty-eight  days  from  the  Capes  to  London  ; 
and  in  three  weeks  after  their  arrival,  the  marriage  ceremony 
was  performed  at  St.  Martin’s  church  in  the  Strand;  Mr. 
Pratt  officiating  as  father  and  giving  away  the  bride.  The 
whole  party  then  made  an  excursion  to  Mr.  West’s  aunt’s  in 
Oxfordshire,  and  to  his  brother’s  in  Berkshire,  and  returned  to 
London  after  a delightful  tour  of  several  weeks. 

Mr.  Pratt  w7as  now  located  as  a member  in  Mr.  West’s 
family,  and  studied  his  art  under  him  with  close  application, 
and  received  from  him  at  all  times  (to  use  his  own  words) 
“ the  attentions  of  a friend  and  brother.”*  He  continued  in 
England  four  years — eighteen  months  of  that  time  being  spent 


* Mr.  Pratt  was  the  first  of  the  many  who  received  gratuitous  instruction 
from  Benjamin  West.  It  is  curious  to  observe  how  uniformly  his  American 
pupils  speak  of  him  as  a friend,  a brother,  or  a father  to  them 


ICO 


Pratt  returns  home  : goes  to  Ireland. 

in  the  practice  of  his  profession  in  the  city  of  Bristol ; and  it 
is  to  his  studies  and  improvement  during  this  period  that  we 
are  to  look,  as  the  cause  of  his  attaining  a professional  stand 
of  high  respectability.  In  1768  he  returned  to  Philadelphia, 
and  recommenced  his  business  at  the  corner  of  Front  and  Pine 
streets.  His  situation  and  the  nature  of  his  business  may  be 
in  some  degree  elucidated  by  referring  again  to  his  manu- 
script. “ I now  met  with  my  old  friend,  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Barton,  who  came  purposely  to  introduce  me  to  Governor 
Hamilton,  Governor  John  Penn,  Mr.  John  Dickenson,  Mr. 
Samuel  Powel,  the  Willing  family,  the  clergy  of  Philadel- 
phia, &lc.  &c. ; among  whom  I met  with  full  employ  for  two 
years.”  This  pleasing  and  successful  career  was  interrupted 
by  some  family  concerns  of  importance,  which  rendered  his 
presence  in  Ireland  indispensable.  Accordingly,  in  March, 
1770,  he  sailed  for  Newry,  a fellow-passenger  with  Mr.  Joseph 
Reed,  (afterwards  governor  of  Pennsylvania,)  and  had  an 
agreeable  passage  out,  and  soon  after  reached  Dublin.  Among 
others  with  whom  Mr.  Pratt  formed  an  intimacy  in  this  place, 
was  the  Rev.  Archdeacon  Mann,  from  whose  family,  during 
his  stay,  he  received  every  species  of  polite  attention.  By  way 
of  acknowledgment  for  so  many  favours,  he  painted  a full- 
length  portrait  of  the  Rev.  Doctor,  in  his  canonical  robes. 
This  picture  was  placed  in  an  exhibition  by  the  Dublin  Society 
of  Artists,  and  its  author  received  no  inconsiderable  share  of 
praise  and  commendation.  In  the  latter  part  of  his  time,  he 
proceeded  to  England  ; and  during  two  weeks  that  he  re- 
mained in  Liverpool,  was  assiduously  occupied  in  painting 
portraits.  From  Liverpool  he  went  to  Cork,  and  soon  after 
sailed  to  Philadelphia. 

Previous  to  their  sailing,  as  the  last  boat  was  about  leaving 
the  shore,  a young  woman  applied  for  a passage  to  Philadel- 
phia, where  she  said  her  family  held  a respectable  situation  in 
society.  An  unfortunate  marriage  had  been  the  cause  of  her 
following  the  fortunes  of  a worthless  husband  to  Ireland, 
where  she  was  now  deserted.  To  others  in  the  boat  her  ap- 
peal was  made  in  vain  ; but  the  characteristic  generosity  of 
an  artist  was  at  once  excited.  Mr.  Pratt  became  responsible 
for  her  passage-money,  and  a share  of  the  few  guineas  re- 
maining in  his  pocket  was  appropriated  to  her  immediate 
wants;  and  through  his  means  she  was  rescued  from  want  and 
misery.  The  person  here  spoken  of  was  conducted  by  Mr. 
Pratt  to  her  friends  in  safety  in  Philadelphia,  whose  gratitude 
was  great  and  lasting. 


101 


Pratt  finally  established  in  Philadelphia. 

Having  returned  to  Philadelphia,  Mr.  Pratt  never  left  it 
again,  but  pursued  his  profession  with  unabated  zeal  and 
industry.  Many  of  his  portraits  extant  prove  him  to  have 
been  an  artist  of  talent  and  capacity.  Among  these  I would 
notice,  as  works  praised  by  competent  judges,  a portrait  of  the 
duke  of  Portland,  and  one  of  the  duchess  of  Manchester; 
also  a scripture  piece,  and  the  London  School  of  Artists,  and 
a full-length  portrait  of  Gov.  Hamilton,  now  in  the  possession 
of  his  family  ; the  colouring  and  effect  are  highly  creditable 
to  the  infant  arts  of  our  country. 

Devotedly  attached  to  his  profession,  and  governed  by  the 
spirit  of  the  times,  and  feeling  that  the  legitimate  path  of  the 
limner  could  not  support  an  increasing  family,  Mr.  Pratt 
painted  at  intervals  a number  of  signs,  some  of  which,  until 
within  a few  years,  have  been  hanging  in  this  city.  Amongst 
these,  perhaps  the  best  was  a representation  of  a cock  in  a 
barn-yard,  which  for  many  years  graced  a beer-house  in 
Spruce-street ; the  execution  of  this  was  so  fine,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  nature  so  exactly  copied,  that  it  vras  evident 
to  the  most  casual  observer  that  it  was  painted  by  the  hand 
of  a master.  Most  of  our  old  citizens  recollect  the  sign  of 
the  grand  convention  of  1788,  which  was  first  raised  at  the 
corner  of  Fourth  and  Chesnut  streets.  On  this  piece  Mr. 
Pratt  gave  portraits  of  most  of  the  distinguished  men  assem- 
bled on  that  occasion,  and  for  some  time  the  streets  were  filled 
with  crowds  occupied  in  identifying  likenesses. 

After  spending  a life  principally  in  the  cultivation  of  the 
arts,  of  which  he  was  in  this  country  a most  effective  pioneer, 
he  was'attacked  by  the  gout  in  the  head  and  stomach,  and  died 
on  the  9th  day  of  January,  1805,  aged  seventy  years  three 
months  and  nineteen  days. 

Of  the  picture  of  “ The  London  School  of  Artists,”  painted 
by  Mr.  Pratt,  my  friend  Thomas  Sully  says,  “ This  picture 
was  exhibited  in  our  academy  some  years  ago,  and  was  so  well 
executed  that  1 had  always  thought  it  was  a copy  from  West. 
The  whole-length  of  Governor  Hamilton  l have  often  seen  at 
the  Woodlands,  near  Philadelphia,  and  considered  it  a very 
excellent  picture,  and  worthy  to  pass  for  one  of  West’s.” 

Between  the  years  1760  and  1764,  Mr.  Pratt  painted  por- 
traits occasionally  in  New-York.  I have  seen  a full-length 
portrait  of  Governor  Colden  by  him,  and  there  are  in  the 
Walton  family  several  of  his  pictures.  Tradition  says  of  him 
at  this  time  that  he  was  a gentleman  of  pleasing  manners,  and 
a great  favourite  with  the  first  citizens  in  point  of*  wealth  and 
intelligence. 


L02 


Pratt’s  sign-painting. 


From  the  venerable  Mr.  Thackara,  we  learn  that  Pratt, 
when  a boy,  “ was  a schoolmate  of  Charles  W.  Peale  and  B. 
West,  at  Videl’s  school,  up  the  alley,  back  of  Holland’s  hat- 
ter’s shop,  Second-street,  below  Chesnut.  At  ten  years  of 
age  he  wrote  twelve  different  handwritings,  and  painted  a 
number  of  marine  pieces,  which  are  now  in  the  family.  He 
assisted  C.  W.  Peale  to  form  the  first  museum  in  Philadel- 
phia, southwest  corner  of  Third  and  Lombard  streets.  When 
in  England,  he  assisted  West  in  painting  the  whole  royal 
family.”  I give  this  as  received  from  my  respectable  friend 
Mr.  Thackara;  but  it  seems  at  variance  with  the  memoirs  of 
C.  W.  Peale,  in  respect  to  Pratt,  West,  and  Peale  being 
schoolmates  in  Philadelphia.  Mr.  Peale  was  seven  years 
younger  than  Pratt,  and  was  born  at  Chesterton,  eastern  shore 
of  Maryland,  and  did  not  visit  Philadelphia  until  he  was  a mar- 
ried man  and  a saddler;  according  to  his  son’s  biography  of 
him. 

It  is  well  known  that  many  a good  painter  has  condescend- 
ed, and  many  a one  been  glad,  to  paint  a sign.  I have  been 
told  that  it  is  very  common  in  Paris.  In  Philadelphia  the 
signs  have  been  remarkable  for  the  skill  with  which  they  are 
designed  and  executed.  Beside  the  signs  mentioned  above 
as  painted  by  Mr.  Pratt,  a Neptune  and  a Fox-chase,  with 
many  others,  came  from  his  work-shop.  One  of  the  signs  men- 
tioned above  is  thus  noticed  in  a letter  from  M.  M.  Noah,  Esq., 
to  me,  and  published  in  my  History  of  the  American  Theatre. 
He  savs  a prologue  he  wrote  when  a boy  “ was  probably  sug- 
gested by  the  sign  of  the  Federal  Convention  at  the  tavern 
opposite  the  theatre  (the  old  theatre  in  South-street).  You 
no  doubt  remember  the  picture  and  the  motto  : an  excellent 
piece  of  painting  of  the  kind,  representing  a group  of  venera- 
ble personages  engaged  in  public  discussions.  The  sign 
must  have  been  painted  soon  after  the  adoption  of  the  federal 
constitution  ; and  I remember  to  have  stood  1 many  a time  and 
oft’  gazing,  when  a boy,  at  the  assembled  patriots,  particu- 
larly the  venerable  head  and  spectacles  of  Dr.  Franklin, 
always  in  conspicuous  relief.” 

I insert  with  pleasure  Mr.  Neagle’s  testimony  to  the  merit 
of  Pratt,  and  it  is  the  testimony  of  an  excellent  artist  and  judi- 
cious man. 

“ I have  seen  the  works  of  Pratt— portraits  and  other  sub- 
jects. I remember  many  signs  for  public  houses  (now  all 
gone)  painted  by  his  hand,  and  I assure  you  they  were  by  far 
the  best  signs  l ever  saw.  They  were  of  a higher  character 
than  signs  generally,  well  coloured,  and  well  composed.  They 


103 


Woolaston.  Copley . 

were  like  the  works  of  an  artist  descended  from  a much  higher 
department.  One  of  a game-cock,  admirably  painted,  which 
was  afterwards  retouched  or  repainted  by  Woodside.  It  was 
called  the  ‘ Cock  revived,’  but  with  all  Woodside’s  skill,  it 
was  ruined,  and  I have  heard  he  confesses  it.  One  of  the 
Continental  Convention,  with  they  say  good  likenesses.  One 
of  Neptune,  &c.,  for  Lebanon  gardens  in  South-street.  One 
admirably  executed  Hunting  Scene,  with  sun-rise,  in  Arch- 
street. A Drovers’  Scene,  and  others,  most  of  them  with 
verses  at  bottom  composed  by  himself. 

“ Pratt’s  signs,  or  at  least  those  attributed  to  him  by  his  son 
Thomas,  were  broad  in  effect  and  loaded  with  colour.  There 
is  no  niggling  in  his  style  or  touch.  I remember  them  well; 
for  it  was  in  a great  measure  his  signs  that  stirred  a spirit 
within  me  for  the  art,  whenever  I saw'  them,  which  was  fre- 
quent.” 


WOOLASTON— 1758. 

A gentleman  of  this  name  painted  portraits  in  Philadel- 
phia in  1758,  and  in  Maryland  as  early  as  1759-60.  I 
know  nothing  more  of  him,  but  that  Francis  Hopkinson  pub- 
lished verses  in  his  praise  in  the  American  Magazine  for  Sep- 
tember, 1758. 

JOHN  SINGLETON  COPLEY— 1760, 

probably  painted  portraits  as  early  as  1760;  and  therefere  is 
next  in  point  of  time.  Copley,  another  American,  after  enjoy- 
ing greater  advantages  for  the  study  of  his  art,  than  had  been 
afforded  to  his  countryman  West,  and  after  painting  better 
pictures,  in  the  new  world,  than  the  Pennsylvanian,  followed 
him  to  Europe;  and  with  admirable  industry  and  perseverance 
raised  himself  nearly  to  a level  with  the  best  portrait-painters  of 
England,  where  portrait-painting  was  at  the  period  of  his 
making  that  country  his  permanent  place  of  residence,  taking 
that  stand  which  has  rendered  England  the  school  for  all 
artists,  who  desire  to  excel  in  a branch  of  the  fine  arts,  more 
lucrative,  (though  not  so  honourable,)  than  history  painting. 
W est,  as  we  have  seen,  chose  the  more  difficult,  complicated, 
and  brilliant  department,  and  was  acknowledged  as  its  head. 
Copley  only  took  up  the  historic  pencil  at  intervals,  and  was 
even  when  so  employed,  still  a portrait-painter. 

Knowing  that  Samuel  F.  B.  Morse,  Esq.,  with  a wish  to 
honour  his  countryman,  had  applied  to  Copley’s  son,  Lord 
Lyndhurst,  for  information  respecting  his  father,  I requested 


104  Lord  Lyndhurst  to  Mr.  Morse. 

the  noble  lord’s  answer,  which  being  communicated  to  me,  is 
here  given  : 


“ George-street,  27th  December,  1827. 

“ Dear  Sir  I beg  you  will  accept  my  best  thanks  for  your 
discourse  delivered  before  the  National  Academy  at  New- 
York,  which  has  been  handed  to  me  by  Mr.  Ward.  The 
tenor  of  my  father’s  life  was  so  uniform  as  to  afford  little  mate- 
rials for  a biographer.  He  was  entirely  devoted  to  his  art, 
which  he  pursued  with  unremitting  assiduity  to  the  last  year 
of  his  life.  The  result  is  before  the  public  in  his  works,  which 
must  speak  for  themselves ; and  considering  that  he  w as  en- 
tirely self-taught,  and  never  saw  a decent  picture,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  his  own,  until  he  was  nearly  thirty  years  of  age,  the 
circumstance  is,  I think,  worthy  of  admiration,  and  affords  a 
striking  proof  of  what  natural  genius,  aided  by  determined 
perseverance  can,  under  almost  any  circumstances,  accomplish. 

“ I remain,  dear  sir, 

“ Your  faithful  servant, 

“ LYNDHURST.” 

Now  this  is  very  civil,  but  sufficiently  meagre  and  unsatis- 
factory. That  Mr.  Copley  was  a prudent,  assiduous,  perse- 
vering man,  we  know,  and  that  he  was  a good  painter  before  he 
left  his  country;  but  the  “ entirely  self-taught,”  I reject  alto- 
gether. Neither  can  1 admit  that  he  had  not  seen  a “ de- 
cent picture,  with  the  exception  of  his  own,”  before  he  saw  the 
treasures  of  European  art.  Smybert  and  Blackburn  painted 
in  Boston ; and  even  if  the  young  man  did  not  receive  their  in- 
struction as  a pupil,  he  saw  their  pictures,  which  were  more 
than  decent,  and  received  the  instruction  which  is  conveyed 
by  studying  the  works  of  others*  We  shall  see  that  Allston 
gained  his  first  notion  of  colouring  from  a picture  b}^  Smybert 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Boston.  Copley  painted  in  New- 
York,  and  saw  the  portraits  executed  by  West  in  that  city, 
and,  as  we  have  seen,  West  painted  a portrait  on  his  arrival  at 
Rome,  which  stood  a comparison  with  the  works  of  Mengs. 
We  have  no  testimony  that  Copley  visited  Philadelphia : if 
he  did  not,  it  was  from  a lack  of  curiosity,  and  not  of  means, 
for  he  had  long  been  in  lucrative  employment,  and  lived  in 
comparative  splendour.  If  he  saw  only  the  collection  of  pic- 
tures belonging  to  Governor  Hamilton,  he  saw  many  that  were 
more  than  decent.  The  Murillo  of  this  collection  was  proba- 
bly a first-rate  picture. 


Encyclopedia  Americana.  , 105 

But  if  he  only  saw  the  pictures  of  Smybert,  we  know  that 
he  was  no  mean  artist  ; and  that  he  brought  to  Boston,  casts, 
drawings,  prints,  and  many  copies  from  old  masters,  besides 
the  Cardinal  Bentivoglio,  above  alluded  to.  It  is  further,  very 
probable,  that  Copley  was  the  companion,  the  friend,  or  the 
fellow-student  of  the  younger  Smybert,  under  the  tuition  of  his 
father.  Copley,  born  in  1738,  was  at  the  period  of  Smybert’s 
death,  (1751)  thirteen  years  of  age,  and  though  we  find  no 
direct  evidence  of  the  fact,  was  probably  a pupil,  directly  or 
indirectly, Pof  the  friend  of  Dean  Berkeley. 

Not  satisfied  with  the  information  afforded  by  Lord  Lynd- 
hurst  in  his  letter  above  quoted,  we,  in  the  democratic  simpli- 
city of  our  hearts,  endeavoured  to  elicit  something  more  defi- 
nite from  the  painter’s  son  respecting  his  father.  We  wrote  to 
the  noble  lord,  but  having  waited  many  months,  we  despair 
of  information  from  that  source.  It  has  been  observed,  that  in 
England,  as  well  as  in  America , any  man,  however  low  in  the 
scale  of  society,  if  he  has  talents,  may  be  lifted  to  high  rank 
and  official  power.  But  with  us  he  is  so  lifted  by  the  people, 
and  remains  one  of  them  ; whereas  in  England,  he  is  exalted 
by  the  aristocracy,  and  is  evermore  lost  to  the  mass  from  which 
he  is  taken.  It  is  understood,  that  he  is  to  become,  when  he 
is  admitted  to  breathe  the  air  of  the  upper  region,  a being  of 
a superior  nature  from  those  with  whom  he  once  associated. 

Thus  disappointed,  we  have,  through  the  medium  of  a friend, 
applied  to  another  of  Mr.  Copley’s  children,  endeavouring  to 
find  the  date  of  his  birth,  and  other  circumstances  relative  to 
his  early  life  which  might  be  remembered  in  the  family  with 
pleasure,  and  recorded  to  his  credit.  We  are  referred  to  an 
article  in  the  Encyclopedia  Americana  for  information,  which 
was  communicated  to  Doctor  Leiber  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Clark 
Green.  We  give  the  whole. 

“John  Singleton  Copley,  a self-taught*  and  distinguished 
painter,  was  born  in  1738,  in  Boston,  Mass.,  and  died  in  Lon- 
don, in  1815.  Copley  began  to  paint  at  a very  early  age; 
and  pieces  executed  by  him  in  Boston,  before  (to  use  his  own 
words)  he  had  seen  any  tolerable  picture,  and  certainly  before 
he  could  have  received  any  instruction,  in  the  art  of  painting, 
from  the  lips  of  a master, f show  his  natural  talent,  and,  in 
fact,  were  unsurpassed  by  his  later  productions.  He  did  not 
visit  Italy  till  1774.  In  1776  he  went  to  England,  where  he 
met  his  wife  and  children,  whom  he  left  in  Boston.  As  the 


* We  have  given  our  opinion  on  this  subject  already, 
f This  is  a subject  on  which  we  have  also  given  an  opinion. 

14 


106  Chatham's  last  speech  against  our  independence. 

straggle  between  England  and  America  had  begun  in  1775, 
there  was  neither  a good  opportunity  for  Mr.  Copley  to  return 
to  his  native  land,  which  he  always  seems  to  have  had  in  view, 
nor  was  there  much  hope  of  success  for  an  artist  in  the  con- 
vulsed state  of  the  country.  He  therefore  devoted  himself  to 
portrait  painting  in  London,  and  was  chosen  a member  of  the 
Royal  Academy.  His  first  picture  which  may  be  called  histo- 
rical, was  the  youth  rescued  from  a shark  ; but  the  picture 
styled  the  death  of  Lord  Chatham,  which  represents  the  great 
orator  fainting  in  the  house  of  lords,  after  the  memorable 
speech  in  favour  of  America,*  and  contains,  at  the  same  time, 
the  portraits  of  all  the  leading  men  of  that  house,  at  once  esta- 
blished his  fame.  In  1790,  Copley  was  sent  by  the  city  of 
London,  to  Hanover,  to  take  the  portraits  of  four  Hanoverian 
officers,  commanders  of  regiments  associated  with  the  British 
troops  under  General  Eliot,  (afterwards  Lord  Heathfield,)  at 
the  defence  of  Gibraltar,  in  order  to  introduce  them  in  the 
large  picture,  which  he  was  about  making  for  the  city,  of  the 
siege  and  relief  of  Gibraltar,  which  was  afterwards  placed  in 
the  council-chamber  of  Guildhall.  Mr.  Copley  pursued  his 
profession  with  unabated  ardour,  until  his  sudden  death,  in 
1815.  Beside  the  pictures  already  mentioned,  and  a num- 
ber of  portraits,  including  those  of  members  of  the  royal  family, 
the  most  distinguished  of  his  productions,  are  Major  Pierson’s 
death  on  the  Island  of  Jersey  ; Charles  the  First  in  the  house 
of  commons,  demanding  of  the  speaker,  Lenthall,  the  five  im- 
peached members,  containing  the  portraits  of  the  most  distin- 
guished members  of  that  house  : the  surrender  of  Admiral  De 
Winter  to  Lord  Duncan,  onboard  the  Venerable,  off  Camper- 
down  ; Samuel  and  Eli,  &c. ; of  all  of  which  engravings  exist, 
though  of  some,  (for  instance  the  last-mentioned  piece,)  they 
are  extremely  rare.  His  eldest  and  only  surviving  son,  John 
Singleton  Copley,  Lord  Lyndhurst,  high  chancellor  of  Eng- 
land, was  born  in  Boston,  May  21,  1772.” 

We  will  now  proceed  to  our  task  with  some  degree  of  regu- 
larity. John  Singleton  Copley  was  born  at  Boston,  Massa- 
chusetts, in  the  year  1738;  thirteen  years  before  the  death  of 


* This  memorable  speech,  so  far  from  being  “ in  favour  of  America,”  was  an 
exertion  of  his  eloquence  to  rouse  his  countrymen  to  continue  hostilities,  and  to 
make  redoubled  efforts  against  American  independence.  The  last  effort  of 
Chatham’s  mental  and  physical  powers  was  made  to  excite  England  to  risk  all 
rather  than  succumb  to  America.  “ Let  us  fall  like  men,  if  we  must  fall,”  said  the 
orator ; “if  we  must  fall,  we  will  fall  in  the  effort  to  preserve  the  lustre  of  this 
nation.” 


107 


Mr.  Copley's  marriage. 

John  Smybert.  He  was  son  of  John  Copley  and  Mary  Single- 
ton  his  wife,  who  emigrated  to  America  from  Ireland. 

Mr.  Copley  soon  evinced  such  excellence  as  a portrait-pain- 
ter that  he  commanded  the  time  and  purses  of  the  rich.  In 
1768,  we  find  Charles  Wilson  Peale  journeying  from  Anna- 
polis to  Boston,  to  seek  his  instruction. 

By  the  favour  of  Judge  Bacon  of  Utica,  we  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  presenting  the  reader  with  the  fac-simile  of  an  auto- 
graph bill  of  sale,  or  due-bill  by  Copley,  which  shows  what 
his  Boston  prices  were  in  1769  and  70.  One  of  the  portraits 
here  mentioned  we  have  seen,  the  mother  of  Judge  Bacon,  the 
accuracy  and  finish  of  which  is  admirable. 

In  1771,  Mr.  Trumbull  says,  he  being  then  at  Cambridge 
College,  visited  Mr.  Copley  at  the  time  of  his  marriage.  He 
was  dressed  on  the  occasion  in  a suit  of  crimson  velvet,  with 
gold  buttons,  and  the  elegance  displayed  by  Copley  in  his 
style  of  living,  added  to  his  high  repute  as  an  artist,  made  a 
permanent  impression  on  Trumbull  in  favour  of  the  life  of  a 
painter. 

Copley  married,  in  1771,  Miss  Clarke,  the  daughter  of  a 
merchant  of  Boston,  who  was  afterward  the  agent  of  the  Eng- 
lish East  India  Company  for  the  sale  of  their  teas. 

In  1773  Copley  resided  some  time  in  New-York,  painting 
for  the  rich  and  fashionable.  We  remember  particularly  the 
portrait  of  the  Rev.  Doctor  Ogilvie,  as  of  this  period.  The 
painter’s  esel  was  in  Broadway,  on  the  west  side,  in  a house 
which  was  burnt  in  the  great  conflagration  on  the  night  the 
British  army  entered  the  city  as  enemies. 

In  1774  Mr.  Copley  proceeded  to  England,  and  thence  to 
Italy,  leaving  his  wife  and  family  in  Boston.  On  his  return  to 
London  he  found  his  family  there ; they  having  left  America 
in  1776. 

From  this  period  we  find  little  to  aid  us  in  our  notice  of  John 
Singleton  Copley,  except  Cunningham’s  Lives  of  Painters. 
From  an  English  memoir  of  his  son  now  before  us,  we  copy 
the  following  : “ Soon  after  the  father  of  the  present  chancellor 
settled  in  London,  he  became  a member  of  the  academy  of 
painters,  and  attracted  considerable  notice  by  several  works  of 
superior  merit,  and  among  others,  the  death  of  Lord  Chatham, 
and  the  detence  of  Gibraltar.  Mr.  Copley,  however,  soon 
discovered  that  portrait  painting,  which  recommends  itself  to 
the  personal  vanity  and  the  household  affections  of  all  man- 
kind, was  likely  to  be  a more  lucrative  avocation  than  the 
severer  style  of  historical  painting,  and  to  the  former  he  sue- 


108  Romance  of  biography. 

cessfully  dedicated  himself,  and  gradually  rose  to  fortune  and 
reputation.” 

The  few  ideas  conveyed  by  this  are  essentially  false.  Mr. 
Copley  never  adopted  the  severer  style  of  historical  painting. 
He  was  always  a portrait-painter.  His  historical  compositions 
were  laboured,  polished,  and  finished  from  the  ermine  and 
feather,  to  the  glossy  shoe  and  boot,  or  glittering  star  and 
buckle.  The  picture  called  the  Death  of  Chatham,  is  a col- 
lection of  portraits.  It  is  a splendid  picture,  and  the  subject 
was  well  chosen  for  the  advancement  of  the  painter’s  interest. 
The  exhibition  of  it  was  lucrative.  Neither  did  Mr.  Copley 
relinquish  historical  painting,  but  resorted  to  historical  .com- 
position after  practising  portrait,  and  when  at  times  the  tide  of 
fashion  ebbed,  and  left  him  leisure  to  exercise  his  pencil  in 
the  more  arduous  branch  of  the  art. 

We  shall  borrow  from  Mr.  Cunningham’s  work,  and  add 
such  knowledge  as  we  possess  or  can  obtain.  It  appears  that 
it  was  not  Copley’s  loyalty  or  attachment  to  Great  Britain, 
which  occasioned  his  residence  there.  In  a letter  from  John 
Scolley  of  Boston,  to  the  painter  in  1782,  he  says,  “I  trust 
amidst  this  blaze  of  prosperity  that  you  don’t  forget  your  dear 
native  country,  and  the  cause  it  is  engaged  in,  which  I know 
lay  once  near  your  heart,  and  I trust  does  so  still.” 

“It  is  note-worthy,”  says  Mr.  Cunningham,  “that  almost 
at  the  same  hour,  America  produced  amid  her  deserts  and 
her  trading  villages  two  distinguished  painters,  West  and 
Copley,  who  unknown  to  each  other  were  schooling  them- 
selves in  the  rudiments  of  the  art,  attempting  portraits  of  their 
friends  one  day,  and  historical  compositions  the  other;  study- 
ing nature  from  the  naked  Apollos  of  the  wilderness,  as  some 
one  called  the  native  warriors  ; and  making  experiments  on 
all  manner  of  colours,  primitive  and  compound  ; in  short, 
groping  through  inspiration,  the  right  way  to  eminence  and 
fame.” 

We  must  strip  this  of  its  romance.  That  these  two  young 
men  found  the  way  to  eminence  and  fame  is  true,  but  not  in 
the  desert  or  the  wilderness.  Colours  were  to  be  found  at  the 
colour-shops,  and  inspiration— heaven  knows  where ! It  was 
by  exerting  their  talents  perseveringly  in  pursuit  of  the  art  they 
loved,  seeking  and  obtaining  information  from  those  who  pre- 
ceded them,  and  never  deviating  from  the  path  which  wisdom 
and  virtue  pointed  out,  that  they  succeeded  and  obtained  their 
reward,  “ eminence  and  fame.” 

We  copy  the  following  from  Mr.  Cunningham.  “ I once 
heard  an  artist  say  that  the  fame  of  a fine  painter  found  its  way 


Copley's  “ Boy  and  Squirrel 


109 


to  England  as  early  as  the  year  1760.  No  name  was  men- 
tioned. And  this,  he  said,  was  the  more  impressed  upon  his 
mind,  because  of  a painting  of  4 a boy  and  a tame  squirrel,’ 
which  came  without  any  letter  or  artist’s  name  to  one  of  the 
exhibitions  of  the  Royal  Academy;  and  when  its  natural 
action,  and  deep  vivid  colouring  made  the  academicians 
anxious  to  give  it  a good  place,  they  were  at  a loss  what  to  say 
about  it  in  the  catalogue,  but  from  the  frame  on  which  it  was 
stretched,  being  American  pine,  they  called  the  work  American. 
The  surmise  was  just;  it  was  a portrait  by  Copley  of  his  half- 
brother  Harry  Pelham,  and  of  such  excellence  as  naturally 
raised  high  expectations.”  The  Royal  Academy  was  not 
established  until  1769. 

The  Hon.  Gulian  C.  Verplanck  in  a letter  to  us  says,  “ In 
the  lives  of  Copley  I see  that  he  gained  his  just  celebrity  in 
England  by  a picture  of  a boy  and  squirrel.  The  introduction 
of  a squirrel  which  he  painted  beautifully,  and  whose  habits  he 
seems  to  have  studied,  was  a favourite  idea  with  him.  I have 
a large  full  length  of  my  father  when  a child,  playing  with  a 
squirrel.’  This  picture  of  the  Hon.  Cromeline  Verplanck  was 
probably  painted  in  1773,  when  Copley  resided  in  New- 
York. 

Mr.  Cunningham  proceeds:  “In  1767,  when  Copley  was  thirty 
years  old  we  find  him  well  known  to  the  admirers  of  art  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic:  he  was  then  a constant  exhibiter  in  the 
British  Royal  Academy;  was  earning  a decent  subsistence  by 
his  art  among  the  citizens  of  Boston  ; had  proved,  too,  that 
praise  was  sweet  and  censure  bitter;  and  was,  moreover,  sighing 
for  a sight  of  the  Sistine  chapel,  and  talking  of  the  great 
masters.” 

As  before  noticed,  in  1768  the  British  Royal  Academy  was 
not  in  existence,  still  the  American  painter  may  have  exhibited 
his  pictures  at  the  artist’s  exhibition-room,  Spring  Garden, 
and  that  his  merit  was  well  known,  and  acknowledged  by  his 
countryman  West,  before  Copley  left  Boston,  is  proved  by 
the  first  of  the  following  extracts,  from  the  letters  of  a distin- 
guished American  gentleman,  sent  to  us  enclosed  in  this 
note  : 

“ Wednesday,  May  14,  1834. 

“ Dear  Sir  : — In  looking  over  some  letters  to  my  grandfather 
from  his  brother,  I found  the  enclosed  passages,  which  may 
be  of  service  to  your  history  of  the  arts.  The  letters  are  from 
the  late  Gulian  Verplanck,  whom  you  doubtless  recollect  as 


110  Communications  from  O.  C.  Verplanch , Esq. 

for  many  years,  speaker  of  our  assembly,  president  of  the  bank 
ofNew-York,  &c.  &c.,  a gentleman  of  much  taste  and  culti- 
vation. 

“Very  truly  yours, 

“G.  C.  Verplanck.” 

First,  “London,  Feb.  26,  1773. — I may  tell  you  that  I have 
been  introduced  to  Mr.  West,  and  have  made  some  acquaint- 
ance with  him.  He  is  of  very  genteel  behaviour,  and  seems 
greatly  partial  to  Americans ; at  least  he  is  much  pleased  with 
visits  from  them.  He  speaks  very  highly  of  Mr.  Copley’s 
merit,  and  declared  to  me,  that  in  his  opinion,  he  only  wanted 
the  advantage  of  studying  proper  masters  to  be  one  of  the 
first  painters  of  the  age.  I have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the 
greater  part  of  Mr.  West’s  capita]  paintings,  and  think  the 
Death  of  General  Wolfe  decidedly  the  best  production  of  his 
pencil.  It  will  be  a long  time  before  you  will  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  judging  of  its  merit  in  America,  as  it  has  lately  been 
delivered  to  the  engraver,  who  will  require  at  least  two  years 
to  complete  a plate.” 

Second,  “Rome,  March  12,  1775. — I have  the  satisfaction 
of  finding  Mr.  Copley  in  Italy,  whom  I persuaded  to  go  to 
Naples  with  me.  He  has  just  finished  two  excellent  portraits 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Izard  of  S.  C.,  who  are  likewise  here;  from 
the  improvement  he  has  already  made  in  his  manner,  and  will 
continue  to  make  from  studying  the  works  of  the  greatest 
masters,  I have  no  doubt  but  that  he  will  soon  rank  with  the 
first  artists  of  the  age.”  We  recur  to  Cunningham: — 

“ He  thus  sets  forth  his  feelings  in  a letter  to  Captain  Bruce, 
a gentleman  ofsome  taste,  who  seems  to  have  been  an  admirer 
of  the  works  of  Copley — ‘ I would  gladly  exchange  my  situa- 
tion for  the  serene  climate  of  Italy,  or  even  that  of  England  ; 
but  what  would  be  the  advantage  of  seeking  improvement  at 
such  an  outlay  of  time  and  money  ? I am  now  in  as  good 
business  as  the  poverty  of  this  place  will  admit.  I make  as 
much  as  if  I were  a Raphael  or  a Correggio  ; and  three  hun- 
dred guineas  a year,  my  present  income,  is  equal  to  nine  hun- 
dred a year  in  London.  With  regard  to  reputation,  you  are 
sensible  that  fame  cannot  be  durable  where  pictures  are  con- 
fined to  sitting  rooms,  and  regarded  only  for  the  resemblance 
they  bear  to  their  originals.  Were  I sure  of  doing  as  well  in 
Europe  as  here,  I would  not  hesitate  a moment  in  my  choice ; 
but  I might  in  the  experiment  waste  a thousand  pounds  and 
two  years  of  my  time,  and  have  to  return  bafiled  to  America. 
Then  I should  have  to  take  my  mother  with  me,  who  is  ailing  : 


Ill 


Copley's  prudence . 

she  does  not,  however,  seem  averse  to  cross  the  salt  water  once 
more;  but  my  failure  would  oblige  me  to  recross  the  sea  again. 
My  ambition  whispers  me  to  run  this  risk  ; and  I think  the  time 
draws  nigh  that  must  determine  my  future  fortune.’  In  some- 
thing of  the  same  strain  and  nearly  at  the  same  time  Copley 
wrote  to  his  countryman  West,  then  in  high  favour  at  the 
British  court.  ‘ You  will  see  by  the  two  pictures  I have  lately 
sent  to  your  exhibition,  what  improvement  I may  still  make, 
and  wdiat  encouragement  I may  reasonably  expect.  I must 
beg,  however,  that  you  will  not  suffer  your  benevolent  wishes 
for  my  welfare  to  induce  you  to  think  more  favourably  of  my 
works  than  they  deserve.  To  give  you  a further  opportunity 
of  judging,  I shall  send  over  to  your  care  for  the  exhibition  the 
portrait  of  a gentleman,  now  nearly  finished  : the  owner  will 
be  in  London  at  the  same  time.  If  your  answer  should  be  in 
favour  of  my  visit  to  Europe,  1 must  beg  of  you  to  send  it  as 
soon  as  you  can,  otherwise  1 must  abide  here  another  year, 
when  my  mother  might  be  so  infirm  as  to  be  unable  to  accom- 
pany me;  and  1 cannot  think  of  leaving  her.  Your  friendly 
invitation  to  your  house,  and  your  offer  to  propose  me  as  a 
member  of  the  society,  are  matters  which  I shall  long 
remember.’ 

“ What  the  answers  of  Bruce  and  West  were,  I have  not  been 
able  to  learn:  but  it  is  to  be  supposed  they  still  left  it  a matter 
of  uncertainty,  whether  it  would  be  more  profitable  to  go  to 
London  or  remain  in  Boston.  Success  the  wisest  head  can- 
not ensure;  sensible  and  prudent  mediocrity  frequently  wins 
what  true  genius  cannot  obtain — the  race  of  reputation  is,  in 
short,  the  most  slippery  and  uncertain  of  all  races.  As  seven 
years  elapsed  from  this  time  till  he  finally  set  sail  for  Italy,  we 
must  suppose  that  Copley  was  busy  extending  his  fame  with 
his  pencil,  and  hoarding  his  earnings  for  the  outlay  of  travel 
and  study.  He  had,  as  he  acknowledged  to  West,  as  many 
commissions  in  Boston  as  lie  could  execute.  The  price  for 
his  half  lengths  was  fourteen  guineas;  and  he  also  executed 
many  likenesses  in  crayons  ; he  was,  therefore,  waxing  compa- 
ratively rich.  He  was  not  one  of  those  inconsiderate  enthu- 
siasts, who  rashly  run  into  undertakings  which  promise  no 
certain  return.  He  had  laboured  as  students  seldom  labour 
now  for  his  knowledge,  and  for  the  remuneration  which  it 
brought;  and  he  was  wise  not  to  commit  his  all  to  the  waters 
of  the  Atlantic.  He  had  continued  a bachelor,  according  to 
the  precept  of  Reynolds,  that  he  might  be  able  to  pursue  his 
studies  without  offering  up  his  time  and  money  at  the  altar  ot 
that  expensive  idol,  a wife  ; and  he  had  sent  over  various  pic- 


112 


A travelling  companion . 

tures,  chiefly  portraits  in  fancy  postures  and  employments,  with 
the  hope  of  finding  customers  for  them  in  the  English  market. 
He  thus  writes  to  captain  Bruce:  “Both  my  brother’s  por- 
trait and  the  little  girl’s,  or  either  of  them,  I am  quite  willing 
to  part  with,  should  any  one  incline  to  purchase  them,  at  such 
a price  as  you  may  think  proper.’  I have  not  heard  that  he 
held  any  further  consultations  with  captains  or  academicians, 
respecting  his  studies  in  Europe  : the  growing  discord  in  Ame- 
rica was  a sharp  sword  that  urged  him  onward;  so  in  1774, 
having  arranged  his  affairs,  left  a number  of  paintings  in  the 
custody  of  his  mother,  and  put  in  his  pocket  enough  of  his 
winnings  for  a three  years’  campaign  in  the  old  world,  he  set 
sail  for  Italy,  by  the  w ay  of  England.” 

We  have  seen  many  of  his  portraits  in  New-York  and  Bos- 
ton, painted  before  he  left  America.  They  are  in  some  respects 
better  than  his  London  portraits.  One  picture,  the  likeness 
of  Judge  Bacon’s  mother,  we  found  in  a city  now  as  populous  as 
Boston  was  when  the  portrait  was  painted,  the  site  of  which  was 
literally  a wilderness  for  fifteen  years  after  Copley  left  Ame- 
rica. Utica,  in  the  state  of  New-York,  is  surrounded  in  every 
direction  by  a dense  and  happy  population.  The  picture  al- 
luded to  is  a fine  specimen  of  the  artist’s  drawing  and  colour- 
ing, and  still  more  of  elaborate  finishing. 

After  reminding  the  reader  that  Mr.  Copley  was  a married 
man,  and  a father  before  he  left  home,  we  recur  to  Cunningham: 
“ In  London  he  found  few  friends,  and  many  counsellors  ; 
and  left  it  for  Rome,  August  26th,  1774.  It  was  his  misfor- 
tune to  choose  for  his  companion  an  artist  of  the  name  of  Car- 
ter ; a captious,  cross-grained,  and  self-conceited  person,  who 
kept  a regular  journal  of  his  tour,  in  which  he  remorselessly 
set  down  the  smallest  trifle  that  could  bear  a construction  un- 
favourable to  the  American’s  character.  A few  specimens  may 
amuse  the  reader,  e.g.-—1,  This  companion  of  mine  is  rather  a 
singular  character;  he  seems  happy  at  taking  things  at  the 
wrong  end ; and  laboured  near  an  hour  to-day  to  prove  that  a 
huckabuck  towel  was  softer  than  a Barcelona  silk  handker- 
chief.’   ‘ My  agreeable  companion  suspects  he  has  got  a 

cold  upon  his  lungs.  He  is  now  sitting  by  a fire,  the  heat  of 
which  makes  me  very  faint ; a silk  handkerchief  about  his  head, 
and  a white  pocket  one  about  his  neck,  applying  fresh  fuel,  and 
complaining  that  the  wood  of  this  country  don’t  give  half  the 
heat  that  the  wood  of  America  does;  and  has  just  finished  a 
a long-winded  discourse  upon  the  merits  of  an  American  wood- 
fire,  in  preference  to  one  of  our  coal.  He  has  never  asked  me 
yet,  and  we  have  been  up  an  hour,  how  I do,  or  how  I have 


113 


Copley1  s travelling  dress. 

passed  the  night : ’tis  an  engaging  creature.’  Upon  another 
occasion  one  traveller  wishes  to  walk,  the  other  is  determined 
to  ride,  and  they  stop  in  a shower  to  debate  it.  “We  had  a 
very  warm  altercation,  and  I was  constrained  to  tell  him,  4 Sir, 
we  are  now  more  than  eight  hundred  miles  from  home,  through 
all  which  way  you  have  not  had  a single  care  that  1 could 
alleviate ; I have  taken  as  much  pains  as  to  the  mode  of  con- 
veying you,  as  if  you  had  been  my  wife  ; and  I cannot  help 
telling  you,  that  she,  though  a delicate  little  woman,  accom- 
modated her  feelings  to  her  situation  with  much  more  temper 

than  you  have  done.’  ” 4 There  is  nothing  that  he  is  not 

master  of.  On  asking  him  to-day  what  they  called  that  weed 
in  America,  pointing  to  some  fern;  he  said  he  knew  it  very 
well;  there  was  a deal  of  it  in  America,  but  he  had  never 

heard  its  name.’ 4 My  companion  is  solacing  himself, 

that  if  they  go  on  in  America  for  a hundred  years  to  come,  as 
they  have  for  a hundred  and  fifty  years  past,  they  shall  have 
an  independent  government  : the  woods  will  be  cleared,  and, 
lying  it>  the  same  latitude,  they  shall  have  the  same  air  as  in 
the  south  of  France  ; art  would  then  be  encouraged  there,  and 
great  artists  would  arise.’  These  ill-matched  fellow-voyagers, 
soon  after  their  arrival  in  Rome,  separated ; and  Carter  closes 
with  the  following  kind  description  of  Copley,  as  he  appeared 
on  the  road  in  his  travelling  trim  : — 4 He  had  on  one  of  those 
white  French  bonnets,  which,  turned  on  one  side,  admit  of 
being  pulled  over  the  ears  : under  this  was  a yellow  and  red 
silk  handkerchief,  with  a large  Catharine  wheel  fiambeaued 
upon  it,  such  as  may  be  seen  upon  the  necks  of  those  delicate 
ladies  who  cry  Malton  oysters  : this  flowed  half  way  down  his 
back.  He  wore  a red-brown,  or  rather  cinnamon,  great  coat, 
with  a friar’s  cape,  and  worsted  binding  of  a yellowish  white ; 
it  hung  near  his  heels,  out  of  which  peeped  his  boots:  under 
his  arm  he  carried  the  sword  which  he  bought  in  Paris,  and  a 
hickory  stick  with  an  ivory  head.  Joined  to  this  dress,  he  was 
very  thin,  pale,  a little  pock-marked,  prominent  eye-brows, 
small  eyes,  which,  after  fatigue,  seemed  a day’s  march  in  his 
head.’ 

44  Copley  was,  no  doubt,  glad  to  be  relieved  from  the  com- 
pany of  a man  who  was  peevish  without  ill  health  ; who,  with 
his  smattering  of  Italian,  continually  crowed  over  one  who 
could  only  speak  English  ; who  constantly  contradicted  him 
in  company  ; and,  finally  caricatured  him  when  they  parted. 
Our  painter,  in  speaking  afterward  of  his  bore , said  4 he  was  a 
sort  of  snail  which  crawled  over  a man  in  his  sleep,  and  left  its 
slime  and  no  more.’ 


15 


114 


Copley  returns  to  London . 

“ Of  Copley’s  proceedings  in  Rome  we  have  no  account;  but 
we  find  him  writing  thus  by  May,  1775. — ‘Having  seen  the 
Roman  school,  and  the  wonderful  efforts  of  genius  exhibited 
by  Grecian  artists,  I now  wish  to  see  the  Venetian  and  Flemish 
schools:  there  is  a kind  of  luxury  in  seeing,  as  well  as  there  is 
in  eating  and  drinking  ; the  more  we  indulge,  the  less  are  we 
to  be  restrained  ; and  indulgence  in  art  I think  innocent  and 
laudable.  I have  not  one  letter  to  any  person  in  all  my  in- 
tended route,  and  I may  miss  the  most  beautiful  things  ; I 
beg  you  therefore,  to  assist  and  advise  me.  I propose  to  leave 
Rome  about  the  20th  of  May  ; go  to  Florence,  Parma,  Mantua, 
Venice,  Inspruck,  Augsburg,  Stuttgardt,  Manheim,  Coblentz, 
Cologne,  Dusseldorf,  Utrecht,  Amsterdam,  Leyden,  Rotter- 
dam, Antwerp,  Brussels,  Ghent,  Bruges,  Lille,  Paris,  London. 
The  only  considerable  stay  which  I intend  to  make  will  be  at 
Parma,  to  copy  the  fine  Correggio.  Art  is  in  its  utmost  per- 
fection here  ; a mind  susceptible  of  the  fine  feelings  which  art 
is  calculated  to  excite,  will  find  abundance  of  pleasure  in  this 
country.  The  Apollo,  the  Laocoon,  &c.,  leave  nothing  for 
the  human  mind  to  wish  for;  more  cannot  be  effected  by  the 
genius  of  man  than  what  is  happily  combined  in  those  miracles 
of  the  chisel.’ 

“ No  memorial  remains  of  what  he  said  or  did  in  the  route 
marked  out  in  this  letter,  save  the  copy  of  the  Parma  Correg- 
gio. His  imitation  is  in  England,  and  may  be  compared, 
without  injury  to  his  name,  with  any  copies  made  by  his 
brethren  of  the  British  school. 

44  In  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1775,  Copley  reached  London  ; 
and  set  up  his  esel,  25  George-street,  Hanover-square.  West 
was  as  good  as  his  word  : he  introduced  him  to  the  academy  ; 
in  1777  he  became  an  associate;  and  in  February,  1783,  we 
find  the  king  sanctioning  his  election  as  a royal  academician. 

44  By  this  time  Copleyls  name  had  been  established  by  works 
of  eminent  merit;  among  the  first  of  which  was  4 The  Death 
of  Chatham.’  The  chief  excellence  of  this  picture  is  the  accu- 
rate delineation  of  that  impressive  event,  and  the  vast  number 
of  noble  heads,  all  portraits,  with  which  the  house  of  lords  is 
thronged  ; its  chief  fault  is  an  air  of  formality,  and  a deficiency 
of  deep  feeling:  yet,  it  must  be  owned  that  those  who  are  near 
the  dying  statesman  are  sufficiently  moved.  All  lords  could 
not  feel  alike; — some  seem  standing  for  their  portraits  ; some 
seem  anxious  about  their  places  ; and  others,  from  their  looks, 
may  be  supposed  inwardly  rejoicing  that  death,  having  struck 
the  head  of  the  administration,  seems  satisfied  with  his  prey. 
Praise  poured  in  upon  the  successful  painter  from  all  quarters  ; 


115 


Sir  William  Chambers  and  Copley. 

no  people  were  more  pleased  than  his  old  companions  in  America; 
and  many  letters  were  addressed  to  him  from  grave  and  aged 
persons. — ‘ I delight,’  said  the  venerable  Matthew  Byles,  of 
Boston,  ‘ in  the  fame  you  have  acquired;  and  I delight  in 
being  ranked  among  your  earliest  friends.’  No  one,  it  may 
be  believed,  rejoiced  more  than  his  mother.  She  was  now 
very  old,  feeble  in  body,  sinking  silently  into  the  grave;  had 
suffered  in  peace  of  mind,  and  in  property,  during  the  war  of 
separation;  but  what  she  lamented  most  were  the  interruptions 
which  took  place  in  a correspondence  with  her  son  : private 
letters  were  sometimes  detained  by  the  government,  and  she 
was  months  without  the  solace  of  his  handwriting.  It  appears, 
too,  that  her  circumstances  were  far  from  affluent ; and  it  must 
be  related  to  the  honour  of  all  concerned,  that  she  made  no 
complaint,  and  that  her  son  did  not  forget  her,  or  any  of  his 
relatives,  amid  all  his  prosperity. 

“ The  fame  which  Copley  acquired,  and  the  value  which  he 
put  upon  this  noble  picture,  brought  him,  along  with  many 
friends,  a few  detractors.  To  have  refused  1500  guineas,  was, 
in  the  sight  of  some,  offence  enough;  nor  was  this  forgotten, 
when  some  time  afterward  the  fame  of  the  painting  was  revived 
by  a splendid  engraving  of  large  size,  of  which  no  less  than 
five-and-twenty  hundred  impressions  were  sold  in  a very  few 
weeks.  He  was  advised  to  exhibit  the  picture  ; and  naturally 
preferring  the  time  when  the  town  is  fullest,  hired  a room,  and 
announced  his  intention,  without  reflecting  that  the  Royal 
Academy  Exhibition  was  about  to  open.  He  met  with  unex- 
pected opposition.  Sir  William  Chambers  remonstrated  : — 
the  room  which  was  chosen  belonged  to  the  king;  it  was  his 
duty,  he  said,  to  protect  the  interests  of  the  Royal  Academy, 
which  were  sure  to  suffer  from  such  partial  exhibitions;  and  he 
interposed,  lest  the  world  should  think  that  the  king,  who  had 
aided  and  protected  the  academy,  now  countenanced  an  exhi- 
bition injurious  to  its  welfare,  and  contrary  to  the  spirit  and 
rules  of  the  institution.  This,  Copley  thought  a little  too 
autocratic  in  the  architect,  who,  moreover,  had  not  hesitated  to 
imbitter  his  opposition  by  most  gratuitous  incivilities.  Those 
who  desire  to  know  how  men  of  eminence  in  art  addressed 
each  other  in  the  year  1781,  may  consult  the  conclusion  of 
Sir  William’s  epistle : — ‘No  one  wishes  Mr.  Copley  greater 
success,  or  is  more  sensible  of  his  merit,  than  his  humble  ser- 
vant ; who,  if  he  may  be  allowed  to  give  his  opinion,  thinks  no 
place  so  proper  as  the  royal  exhibition  to  promote  either  the 
sale  of  prints,  or  the  raffle  for  the  picture,  which  he  understands 
are  Mr.  Copley’s  motives:  or,  if  that  should  be  objected  to,  he 


116 


Bartolozzi  s engraving  of  the  Chatham . 

thinks  no  place  so  proper  as  Mr.  Copley’s  own  house,  where 
the  idea  of  a raree-show  will  not  be  quite  so  striking  as  in  any 
other  place,  and  where  his  own  presence  will  not  fail  to  be  of 
service  to  his  views.’  The  painter  was  much  incensed  by  this 
language,  and  had  some  intention,  when  he  moved  his  picture 
to  another  place,  of  stating  publicly  the  cause  of  this  vexatious 
change  : he  did,  however,  what  many  wise  men  do — having 
vented  his  wrath  and  sarcasm  on  paper  in  the  morning,  he 
sweetened  the  bitterness  of  the  invective  a little  at  mid-day, 
laughed  at  the  whole  affair  in  the  evening,  and  threw  the  satire 
into  the  fire  before  he  went  to  bed.  The  picture  was  so  much 
admired,  that  the  artist  was  emboldened  to  have  an  engraving 
made  from  it  of  unusual  size,  viz.  thirty  inches  long  and  twenty- 
two  inches  and  a half  high,  by  the  hand  of  Bartolozzi. 

“ When  this  great  plate  was  finished,  he  was  remembered  by 
all  those  to  whom  he  had  happened  to  give  offence;  more  par- 
ticularly by  those  who  were  envious  of  his  success.  They 
spread  a report  every  where  that  he  had  fraudulently  withheld 
from  his  subscribers  the  early  impressions  to  which  the  order 
of  signatures  entitled  them.  This  audacious  calumny  was 
promptly  refuted  ; four  gentlemen  of  taste  and  talent,  one  of 
them  Edmund  Malone,  took  up  the  cause  of  their  injured 
friend,  and  proved  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  public — first,  that 
Bartolozzi  received  2000 L for  the  plate;  secondly,  that  the 
number  of  subscribers,  from  April  1780,  to  August  1782, 
amounted  to  1750  ; thirdly,  that  2438  impressions  were  taken 
in  all  ; fourthly,  that  320  proofs  were  struck  from  the  plate  ; 
and,  finally,  that  the  impressions  were  delivered  to  the  sub- 
scribers according  to  the  order  of  subscription.  The  appro- 
bation of  many  good  judges  compensated  for  the  pain  which 
this  rumour  occasioned : he  could  not  but  feel  gratified  with 
the  united  thanks  of  Washington  and  Adams,  to  whom  he  had 
presented  two  of  the  prints: — ‘ This  work,’  says  the  former, 

‘ highly  valuable  in  itself,  is  rendered  more  estimable  in  my 
eye,  when  1 remember  that  America  gave  birth  to  the  cele- 
brated artist  who  produced  it.’ — ‘ I shall  preserve  my  copy,’ 
said  the  latter,  4 both  as  a token  of  your  friendship,  and  as  an 
indubitable  proof  of  American  genius.’  ” 

In  the  year  1784,  the  writer  carried  letters  to  Mr.  Copley 
from  his  wife’s  relatives  in  New-York.  In  the  summer  of  that 
year  were  on  exhibition  the  great  historical  pictures  of  the 
“ Death  of  Chatham,”  “ The  Youth  rescued  from  a Shark,” 
and  “ The  Death  of  Major  Pierson.” 

The  history  of  England  is  the  history  of  our  fathers.  It  is 
our  history  to  the  time  of  separation  by  the  Declaration  of 


Brook  Watson. 


117 


Independence  of  1776.  The  good  and  the  bad  of  English 
history  are  ours  up  to  that  time,  and  as  much  belonging  to  us 
as  to  those  who  now  inhabit  the  island  of  Great  Britain.  We 
inherit  ihe  blessings  proceeding  from  her  patriots  and  heroes — 
her  poets  and  sages ; and  the  curses  entailed  upon  us  by  her  mis- 
taken statesmen  and  avaricious  merchants.  Shakspeare  and 
Milton— Bacon,  Locke,  and  Newton,  are  ours,  and  their  minds 
are  mingled  with  our  intellectual  being.  So  the  deeds  of 
Hampden  and  Sidney,  and  all  the  men  who  thought  and 
fought,  and  bled  for  liberty  of  mind  and  body,  are  subjects  for 
the  pencils  of  American  painters.  Mr.  Copley  chose  and  finely 
executed  one  great  picture  from  this  period  of  English  history, 
“ The  Arrest  of  the  Five  Members  of  the  Commons,  by 
Charles  the  First.”  But  Copley  was,  when  removed  to  Eng- 
land, no  longer  an  American  painter  in  feeling;  and  his  choice 
of  subjects  for  historical  composition,  was  decided  by  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  time,  or  by  employers.  The  picture  called 
the  Death  of  Lord  Chatham,  is  connected  with  the  history  of 
America.  He  received  the  dart  of  death  (for  he  never  reco- 
vered from  the  fainting  of  that  day,)  exerting  himself  in  oppo- 
sition to  that  independence  which  is  our  glory,  and  which  with  its 
offspring,  our  union  under  the  federal  constitution,  is  the  source 
of  all  our  political  happiness.  The  subject  was  worthy  of  the 
historical  painter.  It  is  the  last  scene  in  the  public  life  of  a 
great  man.  The  last  exertion  of  his  transcendant  powers  for 
what  he  thought  the  honour  and  interest  of  his  country.  He 
died  exerting  his  eloquence  to  rouse  his  countrymen  to  redou- 
ble their  efforts  for  the  destruction  of  our  liberties. 

The  second  picture  that  we  have  mentioned  above,  repre- 
sents the  rescuing  of  Brook  Watson  (an  American  adventurer 
from  one  of  the  New-England  provinces,  who  was  afterwards 
commissary  general  of  the  English  armies  in  America,  lord 
mayor  “ of  great  London,”  and  a member  of  the  parliament 
of  Great  Britain,)  from  the  jaws  of  a shark,  in  the  harbour  of 
the  Havana.  This  individual  is  memorable  as  arrayed  with 
our  enemies  in  opposition  to  our  independence,  and  with  the 
enemies  of  God  and  man  in  opposition  to  the  abolitionists  of 
the  slave-trade  in  the  English  house  of  commons.  Before  he 
avowedly  joined  the  standard  of  Britain,  the  traitor  ingratiated 
himself  with  many  leading  Americans,  obtained  as  much  in- 
formation of  their  designs  as  he  could,  and  transmitted  it  to  his 
chosen  masters.  In  the  character  of  legislator,  his  argument  in 
support  of  the  trade  in  human  flesh  was  that  it  would  injure  the 
market  for  the  refuse-fish  of  the  English  fisheries  to  abolish 
it — these  refuse-fish  being  purchased  by  the  West  India 


118  Historical  pictures  in  modern  costume . 

planters  for  their  slaves.  To  immortalize  such  a man  was  the 
pencil  of  Copley  employed.  The  picture  may  be  seen  in 
4t  Christ’s  Hospital  School,”  and  the  debate  in  which  this  ar- 
gument is  urged  may  be  read  in  the  records  of  44  St.  Stephen’s 
Chapel.”  Both  holy  places. 

The  third  picture  above  mentioned,  and  a very  fine  one  it 
is,  represents  the  death  of  a Major  Pierson,  in  a skirmish  on 
the  island  of  Jersey. 

West,  as  we  have  seen,  produced,  in  his  44  Death  of  Wolfe,” 
the  first  historical  picture  of  this  species.  It  is  a curious  fact, 
that  three  Americans  in  succession  painted  successfully  in  this 
style,  and  led  the  way  to  Europeans.  West,  the  founder,  the 
inventor,  the  original,  the  master  ; Copley,  the  second,  his 
immediate  follower;  and  Trumbull,  painting  under  West’s 
eye,  the  third.  West’s  Wolfe  is  not  only  the  first  in  point  of 
time,  but  the  first  in  excellence;  Copley’s  the  second;  and  Trum- 
bull’s “Bunker  Hill”  the  third.  Copley,  in  the  years  1786-7, 
painted  another  picture  of  this  class,  his  Elliot  at  Gibraltar,  (if 
his  daughter  is  correct,  as  quoted  above,  this  picture  was  not 
finished  in  1790  ; I saw  it  in  progress  as  early  as  1787,)  and 
Trumbull  followed  with  a picture  on  a similar  subject,  Elliot’s 
triumph  over  the  French  and  Spanish  combined  forces  at  Gib- 
raltar. Of  these  three  Americans,  West  painted  the  triumph 
of  the  colonists  of  Great  Britain  and  her  European  soldiers 
over  France,  and  the  establishment  thereby  of  the  protestant 
religion  and  the  liberties  of  the  colonies;  he  composed  the 
first  picture  of  the  heroic  class  in  which  modern  costume  was 
introduced,  and  has  all  the  merit  of  original  daring  with  per- 
fect success  ; Copley  followed  in  his  track,  second  in  all, 
though  displaying  great  talents.:  Trumbull  followed,  with 
both  before  him,  in  every  sense. 

I will  now  recur  to  Mr.  Cunningham,  and  the  reader  will 
find  just  opinions  and  descriptions  of  the  above  pictures  of  Mr. 
Copley’s,  as  well  as  others : 

44  At  this  time  historical  painting  seemed  to  have  a chance 
of  taking  a hold  on  public  affection;  the  king  patronized  it 
openly  ; several  dignitaries  of  the  church,  and  sundry  noble- 
men, obeyed  their  own  taste,  or  the  example  of  the  throne,  and 
ordered  pictures ; and  finally,  Alderman  Boydell  entered  into 
a covenant  with  a number  of  the  academicians  to  unite  their 
talents,  and  form  a gallery  of  English  works  in  the  manner  of 
some  of  those  in  foreign  lands  ; we  have  stated  this  more  fully 
elsewhere ; at  present  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  Copley  was 
one  of  the  select,  and  that  various  subjects  presented  them- 
selves to  his  fancy  : 1.  The  Assassination  of  Buckingham  ; 


Death  of  Major  Pierson. 


119 


2.  Charles  signing  Strafford’s  Death-warrant;  3.  Charles  ad- 
dressing the  Citizens  of  London;  4.  The  Five  impeached 
Members  brought  in  Triumph  to  Westminster ; 5.  The  Speaker 
of  the  Commons  thanks  the  City  Sheriffs  for  protecting  the 
Five  impeached  Members;  6.  The  Members  of  the  House  of 
Commons  appear  before  the  Army  on  Hounslow  ; 7.  London 
sends  six  Aldermen  to  General  Monk,  and  submits;  8.  The 
Lord-mayor  presenting  a Gold  Cup  to  Monk;  9.  The  Gene- 
ral conducts  the  Members  back  to  Westminster  Hall  ; 10.  The 
King’s  Escape  from  Hampton  Court.  It  must  be  confessed 
that  some  of  these  themes  smack  of  Bow  bells  and  Cheapside; 
they  were  probably  suggested  to  Copley  by  the  worthy  aider- 
man,  who  was  anxious  to  honour  his  predecessors,  in  the  hope 
of  not  being  forgotten  himself.  While  this  list  was  under  con- 
sideration, an  event  happened,  in  the  course  of  the  war,  which 
furnished  a subject  of  more  immediate  interest. 

“ The  French  invaded  Jersey  ; stormed  St.  Hellier’s  ; took 
the  commander  prisoner,  and  compelled  him  to  sign  the  sur- 
render of  the  island.  Major  Pierson,  a youth  of  twenty-four, 
refused  to  yield — collected  some  troops — charged  the  invaders 
with  equal  courage  and  skill — defeated  them  with  much  effu- 
sion of  blood,  but  fell  himself  in  the  moment  of  victory,  not 
by  a random  shot,  but  by  a ball  aimed  deliberately  at  him  by 
a French  officer,  who  fell  in  his  turn,  shot  through  the  heart 
by  the  African  servant  of  the  dying  victor.  It  is  enough  to 
say  in  praise  of  any  work,  that  it  is  worthy  of  such  a scene. 
The  first  print  I ever  saw  was  from  this  picture:  it  was  en- 
graved by  Heath  ; and  equals  in  dimensions  that  of  “ The 
Death  of  Chatham.”  I was  very  young,  not  ten  years  old  ; 
but  the  scene  has  ever  since  been  present  to  my  fancy.  1 
thought  then,  what  I think  still,  on  looking  at  the  original — 
that  it  is  stamped  with  true  life  and  heroism  : there  is  nothing 
mean,  nothing  little, — the  fierce  fight,  the  affrighted  women, 
the  falling  warrior,  and  the  avenging  of  his  death,  are 
all  there  : this  story  is  finely  told.  The  picture  was  painted 
for  Boydell  : long  afterward,  when  his  gallery  was  dispersed, 
it  was  purchased  back  by  Copley,  and  is  now  in  the  keeping 
of  his  distinguished  son,  Lord  Lyndhurst. 

“ His  next  subject  was  a much  more  magnificent  one,  but 
too  vast  and  varied  perhaps — the  repulse  and  defeat  of  the 
Spanish  floating  batteries  at  Gibraltar.  The  common  council 
of  London  commissioned  this  picture  for  their  hall ; and  they 
gave  ample  space  and  verge  enough,  wherein  to  trace  the  be- 
leaguered rock  and  its  fiery  assailants;  viz.  a panel  twenty-five 
feet  long  and  twenty-two  feet  and  a half  high.  In  this  g/eat 


120 


Copley's  f ull-length  of  John  Adams. 

picture,  as  in  others,  he  introduced  many  portraits  ; the  gallant 
Lord  Heathfield  himself  is  foremost  in  the  scene  of  death;  and 
near  him  appear  Sir  Robert  Boyd,  Sir  William  Green,  chief 
engineer,  and  others,  to  the  amount  of  a dozen  or  fifteen.  The 
fire  of  the  artillery  has  slackened;  the  floating-batteries,  on 
whose  roofs  thirteen-inch  shells  and  showers  of  thirty-two 
pound  balls  had  fallen  harmless,  at  ten  o’clock  in  the  forenoon, 
are  now  sending  up  flames  on  all  sides  ; while  their  mariners 
are  leaping  in  scores  into  the  sea.  The  scene  of  desolation  is 
certainly  grand.  There  is,  however,  a want  of  true  perspec- 
tive : the  defenders  of  the  rock  are  like  the  children  of  Anak; 
the  perishing  mariners,  at  the  very  line  where  the  sea  washes 
the  defences  of  stone,  are  less  than  ordinary  mortals.  The 
figures  have  been  charged  with  looking  more  formal  and  stiff 
than  nature.  This  may  be  too  severe — but  pn  the  whole  I 
cannot  class  the  piece  with  his  happiest  works.  I may  men- 
tion here  a work  bequeathed  by  Copley  to  that  noble  institu- 
tion, Christ’s  Hospital  School,  painted  early  in  his  career,  and 
representing  the  escape  of  Brook  Watson,  when  a sea-boy, 
from  a shark.  He  was  bathing  at  Havana;  a shark  seized 
his  foot  and  snapped  it  off,  and  was  about  to  devour  him,  when 
a seaman  struck  the  monster  between  the  eyes  with  a heavy 
boat-hook,  and  saved  his  companion.  The  terror  of  the  boy 
— the  fury  of  the  fish — and  the  resolution  of  the  mariner,  are 
well  represented  ; while  the  agitated  water  in  w hich  the  scene 
is  laid  seems  bloody.” 

In  addition  to  what  I have  said  of  Brook  Watson,  I will  add 
that  he  was  at  Montreal  when  the  patriotic  Colonel  Allen 
made  his  rash  attempt  to  take  that  place  in  October  1775. 
He  accompanied  Allen,  who  was  taken  prisoner  and  kept  in 
irons,  to  England ; and  treated  him  wdth  cruelty  and  abuse. 

We  saw,  when  in  London,  a full-length  by  Copley,  repre- 
senting John  Adams  as  the  first  ambassador  of  the  United  States 
to  the  court  of  St.  James’s.  To  that  king  whose  subject  he 
had  been  born,  and  from  whom  he  had  been  a most  efficient 
instrument  in  rescuing  millions  who  would  otherw  ise  have  been 
ruled  by  the  laws  framed  by  the  British  parliament,  and  by 
the  bayonets  of  British  mercenaries,  equally  interested  in 
plundering  and  trampling  on  them.  Cunningham  says  : 

“ Subjects  from  British  history  and  British  poetry  were 
what  Copley  chiefly  found  pleasure  in.  The  first  installation 
of  the  order  of  St.  Patrick  seemed  to  him  a subject  worthy  of 
the  pencil ; and  Edmund  Malone  readily  aided  him  with  his 
knowledge  ; and  the  Irish  nobility,  with  but  one  exception  or  so, 
offered  to  give  him  the  advantage  of  their  faces,  so  that  the 
whole  might  bear  the  true  image  of  the  green  isle.  Of  this 


The  husband  and  three  wives . 


121 


projected  work  the  painter  thus  speaks  : 4 I think  it  a magnifi- 
cent subject  for  painting ; and  my  desire  is  to  treat  it  in  an 
historic  style,  and  make  it  a companion  to  the  picture  of  Lord 
Chatham  : filling  the  whole  with  the  portraits  of  the  knights 
and  other  great  characters.  The  idea  originated  with  myself; 
and  I mean  to  paint  it  on  my  own  account,  and  publish  a print 
from  it  of  the  same  size  as  that  of  Chatham.’  This  was  a vain 
imagination — the  king  approved  of  the  work  ; the  nobility  of 
Ireland  promised  to  sit  for  their  portraits,  though  one  of  them, 
Lord  Inchiquin,  I think,  declared  sitting  for  one’s  portrait  to 
be  a punishment  almost  unendurable  ; but  somehow,  here  the 
matter  stopped,  and  the  first  installation  of  the  order  of  St. 
Patrick  is  yet  to  be  painted. 

“ It  ought  to  be  mentioned  that  Copley,  amid  all  his  his- 
torical works,  continued  to  paint  portraits,  and  had  in  that  way 
considerable  employment.  Among  others  he  took  the  likeness 
of  Lord  Mansfield  ; and  has  left  us  a very  fine  family  group 
of  himself,  his  wife,  and  his  children : the  hands  are  well  pro- 
portioned ; there  is  much  nature  in  the  looks  of  the  whole,  and 
some  very  fine  colouring. 

44  A portrait  painter  in  large  practice  might  write  a pretty 
book  on  the  vanity  and  singularity  of  his  sitters.  A certain 
man  came  to  Copley,  and  had  himself,  his  wife,  and  seven, 
children,  all  included  in  a family  piece.  4 It  wants  but  one 
thing,’  said  he,  4 and  that  is  the  portrait  of  my  first  wife — for 
this  one  is  my  second.’ — 4 But,’  said  the  artist,  4 she  is  dead, 
you  know,  sir  : what  can  I do?  she  is  only  to  be  admitted  as  an 
angel.’ — 4 Oh,  no  ! not  at  all,’  answered  the  other  ; 4 she  must 
come  in  as  a woman — no  angels  for  me.’  The  portrait  was 
added,  but  some  time  elapsed  before  the  person  came  back  : 
when  he  returned,  he  had  a stranger  lady  on  his  arm.  4 1 must 
have  another  cast  of  your  hand,  Copley,’  he  said : 4 an  acci- 
dent befell  my  second  wife : this  lady  is  my  third,  and  she  is 
come  to  have  her  likeness  included  in  the  family  picture.’ 
The  painter  complied  — the  likeness  was  introduced — and 
the  husband  looked  with  a glance  of  satisfaction  on  his 
three  spouses:  not  so  the  lady;  she  remonstrated;  never 

was  such  a thing  heard  of — out  her  predecessors  must  go. 
The  artist  painted  them  out  accordingly ; and  had  to  bring 
an  action  at  law  to  obtain  payment  for  the  portraits  which  he 
had  obliterated. 

44  The  mind  of  Copley  teemed  with  large  pictures  : he  had 
hardly  failed  in  his  Irish  subject  before  he  resolved  to  try  an 
English  one,  viz.  the  Arrest  of  the  Five  Members  of  the  Com- 
mons by  Charles  the  First.  Malone,  an  indefatigable  friend, 

16 


122 


Noble  higgling. 


supplied  the  historical  information,  and  gave  a list  of  the  chief 
men  whose  faces  ought  to  be  introduced.  It  was  the  good 
fortune  of  the  eminent  men  of  those  days,  both  cavaliers  and 
roundheads,  that  their  portraits  had  chiefly  been  taken  by  the 
inimitable  Vandyke  : all  that  had  to  be  done,  therefore,  was  to 
collect  these  heads,  and  paint  his  picture  from  them.  They 
were,  it  is  true,  scattered  east,  west,  north,  and  south : but  no 
sooner  was  Copley’s  undertaking  publicly  announced,  than 
pictures  came  from  all  quarters  ; and  it  is  a proof  of  his  name 
and  fame  that  such  treasures  were  placed  in  his  hands  with  the 
most  unlimited  confidence.  The  labour  which  this  picture 
required  must  have  been  immense,  besides  the  grouping,  the 
proper  distribution  of  parts,  and  the  passion  and  varied  feelings 
of  the  scene,  he  had  some  fifty-eight  likenesses  to  make  of  a size 
corresponding  with  his  design.  The  point  of  time  chosen  is 
when  the  king  having  demanded  if  Hampden,  Pym,  Hollis, 
Hazelrig,  and  Strode  were  present,  Lenthall  the  speaker 
replies, — “ I have,  sir,  neither  eyes  to  see,  nor  tongue  to  speak, 
in  this  place,  but  as  the  House  is  pleased  to  direct  me.”  The 
scene  is  one  of  deep  interest,  and  the  artist  has  handled  it  with 
considerable  skill  and  knowledge.  The  head  I like  best  is 
the  dark  and  enthusiastic  Sir  Harry  Vane:  the  Cromwell  is 
comparatively  a failure.  Many  have  left  their  seats  dismayed; 
while  fear,  and  anger,  and  indignation  have  thrown  the  whole 
into  natural  groupings  : the  picture  was  much  talked  of  when 
it  appeared,  and  deserves  to  be  remembered  still. 

“There  has  always  been  a difficulty  in  disposing  of  historical 
pictures  in  this  country;  and  no  one  wras  doomed  to  experience 
it  more  than  Copley  : no  customer  made  his  appearance  for 
Charles  and  the  impeached  members.  I know  not  whether  the 
following  remarkable  letter,  from  a wealthy  peer,  arose  from 
his  own  inquiries,  or  from  an  offer  made  by  the  artist;  the  let- 
ter, however,  is  genuine,  and  proves  that  they  err,  who  imagine 
that  the  spirit  of  bargaining  is  confined  to  mercantile  men 

“ ‘ Lord  Ferrers’  compliments  to  Mr.  Copley;  he  cannot 
form  any  judgment  of  the  picture  ; but,  as  money  is  scarce, 
and  any  one  may  make  eight  per  cent,  of  their  money  in  the 
funds,  and  particularly  in  navy  bills,  and  there  is  so  much  gam- 
ing, he  hopes  he’ll  excuse  his  valuing  his  picture  in  conformity 
to  the  times,  and  not  think  he  depreciates  in  the  least  from  Mr. 
Copley’s  just  merit;  but  if  he  reckons  fifty-seven  figures,  there 
are  not  above  one-third  that  are  capital,  but  are  only  heads  or 
a little  more ; and  therefore  he  thinks,  according  to  the  pre- 
sent times,  if  he  gets  nine  hundred  pounds  for  the  picture  with 
the  frame,  after  the  three  other  figures  are  put  in,  and  it  is  com- 


Another  noble. 


123 


pletely  finished,  and  he  has  the  power  of  taking  a copy,  it  is 
pretty  near  the  value  : that  is  what  very  few  people  can  aftord 
to  give  for  a picture.  However,  if  Mr.  Copley  would  under- 
take to  do  a family  piece  for  him  with  about  six  figures,  about 
the  size  of  the  picture  lie  has  of  Mr.  Wright’s,  with  frame  and 
all,  he  would  agree  to  give  him  a thousand  guineas  for  the  two 
pictures.  But  he  imagines  the  emperor  or  some  of  the  royal 
family  may  give  him  more,  perhaps  a great  deal  more,  which 
he  wishes  they  may,  and  thinks  he  well  deserves;  but  if  he  can’t 
make  a better  bargain,  Lord  Ferrers  will  stand  to  what  he 
says,  and  give  him  six  months  to  consider  of  it,  and  will  not 
take  it  amiss  if  he  sells  it  for  ever  so  little  more  than  he  has 
mentioned,  as  he  has  stretched  to  the  utmost  of  his  purse, 
though  he  does  not  think  he  has  come  near  up  to  Mr.  Copley’s 
merit. 

“ ‘ Upper  Seymour-street,  5th  June,  1791.’ 

“ Copley  felt  himself  so  much  obliged  to  Malone  for  histori- 
cal help,  that  he  made  a public  acknowledgment  of  it ; but  he 
seemed  not  to  be  aware  that  he  had  received  invisible  help 
before,  both  in  America  and  England.  The  person  who  had 
done  this  good  deed  was  Lord  Buchan  ; and,  lest  the  painter 
should  go  to  the  grave  in  ignorance  of  the  name  of  his  bene- 
factor, he  addressed  this  characteristic  note  from  Dryburgh  : — 
‘ You  are  now  the  father  of  my  list  in  the  charming  art  of  per- 
petuating or  greatly  extending  the  impressions  received  by  the 
most  spiritual  of  our  external  senses  from  living  forms.  I take 
pride  to  myself  in  having  been  the  first,  with  your  ‘Boy  and 
Squirrel,’  and  your  excellent  character  from  the  other  side  of 
the  Atlantic,  to  make  you  properly  known  to  the  illustrious 
Pitt,  to  whom  in  this  particular  department  there  has  been 
found  no  equal.’  This  northern  lord  lived,  and,  I hear,  died, 
in  the  belief  that  he  was  the  great  support  of  literature  and 
patron  of  art.  But,  though  the  elder  brother  of  two  men  of 
wit  and  genius,  he  was,  in  fact,  in  every  possible  respect,  sav- 
ing his  coronet,  a nobody. 

“No  artist  was  ever  more  ready  than  Copley  to  lend  his 
pencil  to  celebrate  passing  events;  the  defeat  of  De  Winter  by 
D uncan  was  now  celebrated  in  a picture,  exhibiting  consider- 
able skill  in  depicting  maritime  movements,  and  containing  in 
all  twelve  portraits.  He  is  not,  however,  so  happy  at  sea  as  on 
land;  indeed,  a naval  battle  is  conducted  on  such  mathemati- 
cal principles,  that  no  human  ingenuity  seems  capable  of  in- 
fusing poetic  beauty  into  the  scene.  When  we  have  seen  the 
sides,  and  the  prow,  and  the  stern,  of  a ship,  we  have  seen  all ; 


124 


Copley's  last  works  and  death . 

their  tiers  of  guns,  their  masts,  their  rigging,  and  their  mode 
of  fighting,  are  all  alike.  The  battle  of  La  Hogue  is  the  best 
of  all  the  pieces  of  this  class;  yet  a distinguished  officer  once 
called  it,  in  my  hearing,  a splendid  confusion  ; and  declared  if 
the  painter  had  commanded  the  fleet,  and  conducted  it  so,  he 
would  have  been  soundly  thrashed.  When  Nelson  fell  at 
Trafalgar,  West  dipped  his  brush  in  historic  paint.  Copley 
did  the  same ; the  former  finished  his  picture,  the  latter  but 
planned  his.  The  tide  of  taste  had  set  in  against  composi- 
tions of  that  extent  and  character : more  youthful  adventurers 
were  making  their  appearance.  Lawrence,  Beechey,  and  Shee, 
with  their  splendid  portraitures — Stothard,  with  his  poetic  pic- 
tures— and  Turner,  with  his  magical  landscape,  began  to  ap- 
pear in  the  van  ; and,  at  seventy  years  of  age,  nature  admonish- 
ed Copley  to  cease  thinking  of  the  public,  and  prepare  for  a 
higher  tribunal.  He  had  still,  however,  energy  sufficient  to 
send  works  from  his  easel  to  the  exhibition  ; among  which  were 
portraits  of  the  Earl  of  Northampton,  Baron  Graham,  Vis- 
count Dudley  and  Ward,  Lord  Sidmouth,  the  Prince  of  Wales 
at  a review,  attended  by  Lord  Heathfield,  and  other  military 
worthies.  His  last  work  was  ‘ The  Resurrection  and  with 
this  his  labours  closed,  unless  we  except  a portrait  of  his  son, 
Lord  Lyndhurst,  painted  in  1814.  An  American  gentleman 
applied  to  him  for  information  and  materials  to  compose  a 
narrative  of  his  life;  he  felt  a reluctance,  which  all  must  feel, 
about  complying  with  such  a request;  and  while  he  was  hesi- 
tating, death  interposed.  He  died  9th  September  1815,  aged 
seventy-eight  years. 

“Those  who  desire  to  know  the  modes  ol  study,  the  peculiar 
habits,  the  feelings  and  opinions,  likings  and  dislikings,  of 
Copley,  cannot,  I fear,  be  gratified.  No  one  lives  now  who 
could  tell  us  of  his  early  days,  when  the  boy,  on  the  wild  shores 
of  America,  achieved  works  of  surpassing  beauty;  he  is  but 
remembered  in  his  decliningyears,  when  the  world  had  sobered 
down  his  mood,  and  the  ecstasy  of  the  blood  was  departed. 
He  has  been  represented  to  me  by  some  as  a peevish  and 
peremptory  man,  while  others  describe  him  as  mild  and  unas- 
suming. Man  has  many  moods,  and  they  have  all,  I doubt 
not,  spoken  the  truth  of  their  impressions.  I can  depend  more 
upon  the  authority  which  says,  he  was  fond  of  books,  a lover 
of  history,  and  well  acquainted  with  poetry,  especially  the 
divine  works  of  Milton.  These  he  preferred  to  exercise  either 
on  foot  or  on  horseback,  when  labour  at  the  easel  was  over — - 
and  his  bookish  turn  has  been  talked  of  as  injurious  to  his 


Copley  and  W est  compared . 1 25 

health ; but  no  one  has  much  right  to  complain  of  shortness 
of  years,  who  lives  to  see  out  threescore  and  eighteen. 

“ He  sometimes  made  experiments  in  colours ; the  methods  of 
the  Greeks,  the  elder  Italians,  and  the  schools  of  Florence  and 
Venice,  he  was  long  in  quest  of;  and  he  wrote  out  receipts 
for  composing  those  lustrous  hues  in  which  Titian  and  Cor- 
reggio excelled.  For  the  worth  of  his  discoveries,  read  not 
bb  receipts,  but  look  at  his  works  ; of  all  that  he  ever  painted, 
nothing  surpasses  his  4 Boy  and  Squirrel’  for  fine  depth  and 
beauty  of  colour  ; and  this  was  done,  I presume,  before  he 
heard  the  name  of  Titian  pronounced.  His  4 Samuel  reproving 
Saul  for  sparing  the  People  of  Amalek,’  is  likewise  a fine  bit 
of  colouring,  with  good  feeling  and  good  drawing  too.  I have 
only  this  to  add  to  what  has  been  already  said  of  his  works; 
he  shares  with  West  the  reproach  of  want  of  natural  warmth — - 
and  uniting  much  stateliness  with  little  passion.  As  to  his 
personal  character,  it  seems  to  have  been  in  all  essential  re- 
spects, that  of  an  honourable  and  accomplished  gentleman. 

44  Copley’s  eminent  son  still  inhabits  the  artist’s  house  in 
George-street,  Hanover-square;  and  all  must  consider  it  as 
honourable  to  this  noble  person,  that  he  has  made  it  his  object 
to  collect  works  of  his  father’s  pencil  wherewith  to  adorn  the 
apartments  in  which  they  were  conceived  and  produced.” 

We  have  given  our  opinion  of  the  merits  of  Mr.  Copley  as 
a painter,  and  will  add  that  of  a higher  authority.  In  a note 
which  we  are  permitted  to  copy,  Mr.  Thomas  Sully  says, — ■ 
“Copley  was  in  all  respects  but  one  equal  to  West  ; he  had 
not  so  great  dispatch : but  then  he  was  more  correct,  and  did 
not  so  often  repeat  himself.  His  early  portraits,  which  I saw 
at  Boston,  show  the  same  style,  only  less  finished,  that  he  kept 
to  the  last.  He  had  great  force  and  breadth.  He  was  crude 
in  colouring,  and  used  hard  terminations.”  Highly  as  we  re- 
spect this  authority,  we  must  still  think  that  Copley,  as  an  his- 
torical painter,  was  inferior  to  West  in  very  many  points;  in 
portraits  he  was  his  superior.  It  appears  to  us  strange  that 
any  one  who  has  seen  the  appropriate  variation  of  style  from 
the  scripture  subjects  for  Windsor,  to  the  Roman  pictures — the 
representations  of  English  history  from  Edward  III.  to  Crom- 
well— from  the  battles  of  the  Boyne,  La  Hogue,  and  Quebec, 
to  Telemachus,  Mentor,  and  Calypso — can  place  Mr.  Copley 
near  his  great  countryman. 

We  will  give  some  anecdotes  elucidating  Copley’s  elaborate 
mode  of  working : and  first,  from  Mr.  Sargent : 

“ Stuart  used  to  tell  me,  that  no  man  ever  knew  how  to 
manage  paint  better  than  Copley.  I suppose  he  meant  that 


Copley's  tediousness. 


T26 


firm,  artist-like  manner  in  which  it  was  applied  to  the  canvas; 
but  he  said  he  was  very  tedious  in  his  practice.  He  once 
visited  Copley  in  his  painting-room,  and  being  a good  deal  of 
a beau  ! !”  (by  these  notes  of  admiration  we  suppose  Mr.  Sar- 
gent to  allude  to  Stuart’s  slovenly,  snuffy  appearance  when 
he  knew  him,)  “ Copley  asked  him  to  stand  for  him,  that  he 
might  paint  a bit  of  a ruffle-shirt  that  stuck  out  of  his  bosom. 
Not  thinking  that  it  would  take  more  than  a few  minutes,  he 
complied.  But  after  standing  a long  time,  and  growing  un- 
easy, Copley  began  to  apologize.  “ No  consequence  at  all,” 
said  Stuart,  “ I beg  you  would  finish — do  all  you  can  do  to  it 
now,  for  this  is  the  last  time  you  ever  get  me  into  such  a 
scrape.” 

“ Copley’s  manner,”  continues  Mr.  Sargent,  “ though  his 
pictures  have  great  merit,  was  very  mechanical.  He  painted 
a very  beautiful  head  of  my  mother,  who  told  me  that  she  sat 
to  him  fifteen  or  sixteen  times  ! six  hours  at  a time  ! ! and  that 
once  she  had  been  sitting  to  him  for  many  hours,  when  he  left 
the  room  for  a few  minutes,  but  requested  that  she  would  not 
move  from  her  seat  during  his  absence.  She  had  the  curio- 
sity, however,  to  peep  at  the  picture,  and,  to  her  astonishment, 
she  found  it  all  rubbed  out.” 

On  this  same  subject  we  quote  from  letters  in  answer  to  our 
inquiries,  addressed  to  that  very  distinguished  artist,  C.  R. 
Leslie,  Esq.  R.  A. 

“ Of  Copley  I can  tell  you  very  little.  I saw  him  once  in 
Mr.  West’s  gallery,  but  he  died  very  soon  after  my  arrival 
in  London.  Mr.  West  told  me  he  was  the  most  tedious  of  all 
painters.  When  painting  a portrait,  he  used  to  match  with  his 
palette-knife  a tint  for  every  part  of  the  face,  whether  in  light, 
shadow,  or  reflection.  This  occupied  himself  and  the  sitter  a 
long  time  before  he  touched  the  canvas.  One  of  the  most 
beautiful  of  his  portrait  compositions  is  at  Windsor  Castle,  and 
represents  a group  of  the  royal  children  playing  in  a garden 
with  dogs  and  parrots.  It  was  painted  at  Windsor,  and  during 
the  operation,  the  children,  the  dogs,  and  the  parrots  became 
equally  wearied.  The  persons  who  were  obliged  to  attend 
them  while  sitting  complained  to  the  queen  ; the  queen  com- 
plained to  the  king;  and  the  king  complained  to  Mr.  West, 
who  had  obtained  the  commission  for  Copley.  Mr.  West  satis- 
fied his  majesty  that  Copley  must  be  allowed  to  proceed  in  his 
own  way,  and  that  any  attempt  to  hurry  him  might  be  injurious 
to  the  picture,  which  would  be  a very  fine  one  when  done.” 

The  prediction  of  West  was  fully  accomplished;  and  this 
graceful,  splendid,  and  beautiful  composition  was  seen  by  the 


1 27 


Mr.  Leslie's  opinion  of  Copley . 

writer  at  Somerset  House,  in  the  year  1786  or  ’7,  and  is  re- 
membered with  pleasure  to  this  day. 

On  the  subject  of  Copley,  we  must  give  our  readers  some 
further  valuable  and  entertaining  matter  from  the  pen  of  Mr. 
Leslie.  He  says: 

“As  you  ask  my  opinion  of  Copley,  you  shall  have  it,  such 
as  it  is.  His  merits  and  defects  resemble  those  of  West.  1 
know  not  that  he  was  ever  a regular  pupil  of  the  president,  but 
he  was  certainly  of  his  school.  Correct  in  drawing,  with  a 
fine  manner  of  composition,  and  a true  eye  for  light  and  sha- 
dow, he  was  defective  in  colouring.  With  him  it  wants  bril- 
liancy and  transparency.  His  Death  of  Major  Pierson,  I 
think  his  finest  historical  work— you  have  perhaps  seen  it — at 
any  rate  you  know  the  fine  engraving  of  it,  by  James  Heath. 
Copley’s  largest  picture  is  in  Guildhall  ; the  destruction  of  the 
floating  batteries  oil  Gibraltar,  by  General  Elliot.  The  fore- 
ground figures  are  as  large  as  life,  but  those  in  the  middle  dis- 
tance, are  either  too  small  or  deficient  in  aerial  perspective. 
Instead  of  looking  like  men  diminished  by  distance,  they  look 
less  than  life.  With  the  exception  of  this  defect  the  picture  is 
a fine  one.  His  Death  of  Lord  Chatham  is  now  in  the  Na- 
tional Gallery.  It  is  the  best  coloured  picture  I have  seen  by 
him,  but  it  has  a defect  frequent  in  large  compositions  made 
up  of  a number  of  portraits.  There  are  too  many  figures  lo 
let . Too  many  unoccupied,  and  merely  introduced  to  show 
the  faces.  His  picture  of  Brooke  Watson  and  the  Shark,  is 
in  the  large  hall  of  the  Blue  Coat  School.  It  is  a good  pic- 
ture, but  dry  and  bad  in  colour.  He  painted,  I believe,  a 
great  many  portraits,  but  I have  seen  none  of  any  consequence 
excepting  the  group  of  the  King’s  Children  I described  to  you 
in  my  last.  It  is  a beautiful  picture.  I have  heard  Allston 
say,  he  has  seen  very  fine  portraits,  painted  by  Copley  before 
he  left  America.  I would  advise  you  to  write  to  Allston  about 
it.”  In  another  of  Mr.  Leslie’s  valuable  letters  we  have  the 
following : — “ I know  not  if  Allan  Cunningham  in  his  life  of 
Copley,  has  told  the  following  story  of  his  tediousness  as  a 
painter.  It  is  said,  a gentleman  employed  him  to  paint  his 
family  in  one  large  picture,  but  during  its  progress,  the  gen- 
tleman’s wife  died,  and  he  married  again.  Copley  was  now 
obliged  to  obliterate  all  that  was  painted  of  the  first  wife,  and 
place  her  in  the  clouds  in  the  character  of  an  angel,  while  her 
successor  occupied  her  place  on  earth.  But  lo  ! she  died  also, 
and  the  picture  proceeded  so  slowly  as  to  allow  the  husband 
time  enough  to  console  himself  with  a third  wife.  When  the 
picture  was  completed,  therefore,  the  gentleman  had  two  wives 


128 


Sale  of  Copley's  house  in  Boston. 

in  heaven,  and  one  on  earth,  with  a sufficient  quantity  of 
children.  The  price,  which  was  proportioned  to  the  labour 
bestowed  on  the  picture,  was  disputed  by  the  employer,  who 
alleged  that  the  picture  ought  to  have  been  completed  before 
his  domestic  changes  had  rendered  the  alterations  and  addi- 
tions necessary.  Copley  went  to  law  with  him  ; and  his  son, 
(now  Lord  Lyndhurst,)  who  was  just  admitted  to  the  bar,  gain- 
ed his  father’s  cause.  The  story  was  told  me  by  a gentleman, 
who  was  old  enough  to  remember  Copley,  but  he  did  not  give 
me  his  anthority  for  it,  and  1 fear  it  is  too  good  to  be  true.*  I 
remember  one  or  two  of  Copley’s  last  pictures  in  the  exhibi- 
tion, but  they  were  very  poor;  he  had  outlived  his  powers  as 
an  artist.” 

It  has  been  said  that  Mr.  Copley’s  death  was  accelerated  by 
two  concurrent  circumstances,  both  affecting  his  purse.  The 
one  was  the  dilatoriness  of  Bartolozzi  in  finishing  the  print  of 
the  Death  of  Chatham,  by  which  he  lost  many  subscribers,  and 
experienced  a diminished  sale.  The  other  is  thus  related. 
Some  American  speculator  who  was  acquainted  with  the 
superb  situation  of  Copley’s  house  in  Boston,  (overlooking 
the  beautiful  green  and  parade  ground  called  the  Common, 
with  the  Mall,  and  its  venerable  trees,)  and  who  knew  the 
rapid  increase  in  value,  which  such  property  had  experienced, 
and  was  daily  experiencing,  made  an  offer  to  the  painter  for 
the  purchase,  which,  compared  to  the  value  of  property  in  the 
town  of  Boston  in  former  days,  seemed  enormous.  Copley 
eagerly  closed  with  him,  and  sold  the  property  for  a song,  com- 
pared to  its  real  value.  Shortly  after  the  irrevocable  deed  was 
done,  he  heard  that  it  was  worth  ten — perhaps  twenty  times 
the  money  he  had  received — in  short,  that  he  had  lost  a for- 
tune. He,  it  is  said,  tried  to  undo  the  bargain,  and  even  sent 
his  lawyer-son  to  Boston  for  the  purpose,  but  his  travelling 
countryman  had  left  no  loop-hole  for  the  future  peer  of  the 
realm  of  Great  Britain  to  peer  into.  All  was  irrevocably 
fast,  and  these  losses  are  said  to  have  shortened  his  days.  All 
this  may  be  mere  gossip.  It  is  more  than  gossip,  that  John 
Singleton  Copley  was  a great  painter,  and  a good  man.  It  is 
undoubtedly  true  that  he  experienced  disappointment  and  loss 
from  another  engraving  of  his  44  Chatham.” 

This  was  by  the  decision  of  a stupid  jury  against  him,  July 
2,  1801.  The  circumstances  are  thus  well  told: — 

“ Law  Intelligence.  Delatre  v.  Copley.  This  cause  occu- 
pied the  attention  of  the  4 Court  of  King’s  Bench,’  the  whole 

* Cunningham  tells  this  story  with  such  variations  as  such  stories  are  liable  to  ; 
the  reader  has  seen  it,  and  will  judge  which  is  best. 


Erskine  and  Bartolozzi. 


129 


day,  and  excited  a considerable  degree  of  interest.  The  ques- 
tion was  concerning  the  execution  of  an  engraving  from  the 
celebrated  picture  of  the  death  of  Lord  Chatham.  This  was 
originally  painted  by  the  defendant.  As  soon  as  it  was  finish- 
ed he  put  it  in  the  hands  of  Bartolozzi,  who  undertook  to  en- 
grave it  for  2000  guineas.  This  print  was  admirably  done, 
but  the  price  being  high,  he  wished  to  publish  another  which 
he  could  afford  to  sell  at  a more  moderate  rate.  He  therefore 
contracted  with  the  plaintiff,  for  an  engraving  about  half  the 
size,  for  which  he  was  to  give  him  about  £800.  After  working 
on  the  plate  three  years,  Sir.  Delatre  thought  he  had  brought  it 
to  perfection,  and  sent  a proof  to  Mr.  Copley.  The  latter, 
however,  was  dissatisfied  with  the  performance,  and  refused  to 
pay  the  stipulated  sum;  when  the  action  was  brought  to  re- 
cover £650,  as  the  balance  due  the  plaintiff,  he  having  receiv- 
ed £150,  during  the  course  of  the  work. 

“The  first  witness  called  was  M.  Bartolozzi,  who  spoke  very 
much  in  favour  of  the  engraving.  Copies  of  it  were  produced, 
as  well  as  of  Bartolozzi’s.  Mr.  Erskine  in  cross-examining 
the  witness,  desired  him  to  compare  minutely  the  two  prints 
together.  ‘ Do  you  see,  sir,’  said  he,  1 in  your  own,  the 
youngest  son  of  Lord  Chatham,  in  a naval  uniform,  bending 
forward  with  a tear  in  his  eye,  and  a countenance  displaying 
the  agony  of  an  affectionate  son,  on  beholding  a dying  father ; 
and  do  you  not  see  in  the  other,  an  assassin,  with  a scar  upon 
his  cheek,  exulting  over  the  body  of  an  old  man  whom  he  has 
murdered  ? In  the  one  you  observe  the  late  minister,  a thin, 
fair  complexioned,  genteel-looking  young  man  ; in  the  other, 
a fat,  round-faced,  grim-visaged  negro.  In  the  one,  the  Arch- 
bishop ot  York  appears  in  his  true  colours,  as  a dignified  and 
venerable  prelate  ; in  the  other,  his  place  is  usurped  by  the 
drunken  parson  in  Hogarth’s  Harlot’s  Progress.  In  the  one, 
the  Earl  of  Chatham  is  supported  by  his  son-in-law,  Lord 
Stanhope,  a figure  tall,  slender  and  elegant;  and  does  not  the 
other  offer  to  view  a short,  sturdy  porter  of  a bagnio,  lugging 
home  an  old  letcher,  who  had  got  mortal  drunk  ?’  M.  Bar- 
tolozzi allowed  that  some  of  the  portraits  were  not  exactly  alike, 
but  maintained  that  the  piece  was  well  executed  upon  the 
whole.  Mr.  Pitt’s  looks,  he  said,  had  altered  much  of  late 
years,  and  this  accounted  for  the  dissimilarity  of  his  appear- 
ance in  the  two  prints.  This  remark  caused  a loud  and  gene- 
ral laugh. 

“ M.  Bartolozzi  was  followed  by  an  immense  number  of  other 
engravers,  who  all  coincided  in  opinion  with  him. 

“ After  a very  elegant  speech  for  the  defendant,  from  Mr. 

17 


130 


Lord  Kenyon  and  Mr.  West. 

Erskine,  as  many  eminent  painters  were  called,  whose  opinion 
was  diametrically  opposite.  Among  these  were  Sir  William 
Beechy,  Mr.  Opie,  Mr.  Cosway,  Mr.  President  West,  and  Mr. 
Hopner ; they,  together  with  several  engravers,  unanimously 
pronounced  the  engraving  extremely  ill  executed,  and  declared 
that  the  defendant  could  not  publish  it  without  materially  injur- 
ing his  reputation. 

“Lord  Kenyon  professed  total  ignorance  upon  this  subject ; 
the  knowledge  of  the  fine  arts,  he  said,  doubtless  added  to  the 
value  of  human  life  ; but  this  source  of  enjoyment  had  unfor- 
tunately never  been  open  to  him.  He  found  himself  in  a wilder- 
ness, and  at  a loss  what  path  to  take  to  arrive  at  justice;  he  found 
fourteen  persons  who  advised  him  to  go  one  way,  and  other 
fourteen  who  insisted  upon  his  going  another.  He  would  not 
even  talk  upon  this  subject,  lest  he  should  appear  a fool  and  a 
babbler,  like  the  man  who  discoursed  upon  the  art  of  war  be- 
fore Hannibal.  In  the  course  of  his  charge,  however,  the 
noble  lord  laid  great  stress  upon  the  evidence  of  Mr.  West, 
and  though  he  gave  no  direction  to  the  jury,  seemed  inclined 
to  think  that  the  defendant  was  entitled  to  a verdict.  The  jury 
nevertheless  after  withdrawing  for  about  ten  minutes,  found  a 
verdict  for  the  plaintiff.  Damages  .£650.” 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  judge  showed  his  conviction 
that  West  ought  to  be  decorated  with  a title,  and  called  upon 
him  as  Sir  Benjamin , and  the  audience  paid  him  such  peculiar 
respect  in  making  way  for  him.  See  Hazlitt’s  conversations 
of  Northcote  as  quoted  in  the  biography  of  Mr.  West,  in  this 
work. 

TAYLOR— 1760 

A gentleman  of  this  name  painted  miniatures  in  Philadelphia, 
in  the  year  1760.  A copy  of  a miniature  of  Oliver  Cromwell 
is  in  the  museum  of  that  city,  as  I am  informed.  At  the  same 
time  a painter  of  the  name  of 

CAIN— 1760 
exercised  his  profession  in  Maryland. 


Patience  Wright . 


131 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Hesselius — Frazier— Patience  Wright — Charles  Wilson  Peale — Peale  visits 
England,  and  is  received  kindly  by  West — Returns  in  1774 — Curious  error  re- 
specting the  surrender  of  Cornwallis — Peale’s  Museum* — Mammoth— Penn- 
sylvania Academy  of  Fine  Arts — Mr.  Peale’s  death — His  many  trades  and 
professions. 


HESSELIUS— 1763. 

An  English  painter  of  this  name,  married  and  settled  in  Anna- 
polis in  1763.  Our  highly  esteemed  correspondent,  Robert 
Gilmor,  Esq.  of  Baltimore,  an  enlightened  patron  of  art,  and 
friend  to  artists,  speaks  of  him  thus  : — 

“ Hesselius,  by  whom  the  greater  part  of  the  family  por- 
traits in  the  old  mansions  of  Maryland  was  painted,  and  that  in 
a respectable  manner.”  He  was  an  early  instructor  of  Charles 
Wilson  Peale,  whose  son  Rembrandt  in  the  memoir  of  his 
father,  published  in  the  Encyclopedia  Americana,  calls  him 
‘a  portrait  painter,  from  the  school  of  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller.’ 
About  this  same  period  a gentleman  of  the  name  of 

FRAZIER— 1763, 

was  painting  at  Norfolk  in  Virginia. 

PATIENCE  WRIGHT— 1768. 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  notice  as  artists  ever}'  modeller  in 
clay  or  wax,  or  carver  in  wood  or  even  stone,  that  may  have 
attempted  the  likeness  of  the  human  face  or  form  ; but  the 
earlier  aspirants,  we  think,  entitled  to  a page  in  the  history  of 


* Since  printing  the  biography  of  Pratt,  I find  in  a work  entitled  “ Anecdotes 
of  Painters,  who  have  resided  or  been  born  in  England,”  by  Edward  Edwards, 
teacher  of  perspective,  &c.  at  the  Royal  Academy 

“Matthew  Pratt,  a native  of  Philadelphia,  where  he  practised  as  portrait- 
painter.  Came  to  London,  1764.  Staid  two  years,  residing  with  B.  West. 
1765  was  an  exhibiter  at  Spring-Garden,  and  again  in  the  following  year.  Last  pic- 
ture he  exhibited  was  entitled  the  * American  School it  consisted  of  small  whole 
length  portraits  of  himself,  West,  and  other  of  his  countrymen,  whose  names  are 
unknown  to  the  author.  Soon  after  he  returned  to  his  native  city,  where  he  prac- 
tised, and  was  well  employed.  He  assisted  Peale  in  founding  his  museum. 


L32 


Mrs.  Wright's  birth-place. 


American  art.  We  have  endeavoured  to  rescue  from  obli- 
vion the  name  of  Patience  Wright  a lady  of  uncommon  talent. 
Mrs.  Wright  must  have  made  her  earliest  attempts  before  she 
had  seen  any  works  of  art,  in  modeling  or  otherwise.  From 
childhood  the  dough  intended  for  the  oven,  or  the  clay  found 
near  the  house  assumed  in  her  hands  somewhat  of  the  sem- 
blance of  man ; and  soon,  the  likeness  of  the  individuals  she 
associated  with. 

This  extraordinary  woman  was  born,  like  West,  among 
people  who  eschewed  images  or  pictures.  Her  parents  were 
quakers,  residing  at  Bordentown,  New  Jersey  ; — 1725  was  the 
year  of  her  birth; — March  20th,  1748,  the  date  of  her  marriage 
with  Joseph  Wright,  of  Bordentown,  New  Jersey,  who  died 
in  1769.  Her  maiden  name  was  Lovell.  Before  the  year 
1772,  she  had  made  herself  famous  for  likenesses  in  wax,  in 
the  cities  of  her  native  country,  and  when  a widow  with  three 
children,  was  enabled  to  seek  more  extensive  fame,  and  more 
splendid  fortune  in  the  metropolis  of  Great  Britain.  There  is 
ample  testimony  in  the  English  periodicals  of  the  time,  that 
her  work  was  considered  of  an  extraordinary  kind  ; and  her 
talent  for  observation  and  conversation — for  gaining  know- 
ledge and  eliciting  information,  and  for  communicating  her 
stores,  whether  original  or  acquired,  gained  her  the  attention 
and  friendship  of  many  distinguished  men  of  the  day.  As  she 
retained  an  ardent  love  for  her  country,  and  entered  into  the 
feelings  of  her  injured  countrymen  during  the  war  of  the  revo- 
lution, she  used  the  information  she  obtained  by  giving  warn- 
ing of  the  intentions  of  their  enemies,  and  especially  corres- 
ponding with  Benjamin  Franklin,  when  he  resided  in  Paris, 
having  become  intimate  with  him  in  London. 

in  the  sixth  volume  of  Franklin’s  letters,  published  by  Wil- 
liam T.  Franklin,  in  London,  and  republished  by  William 
Duane,  ia  Philadelphia,  is  the  following:— 

“ To  Mrs.  Wright , London . 

“Passy,  May  4,  1779. 

“ Dear  Madam  :—  \ received  your  favour  of  the  14th  of 
March  past,  and  if  you  should  continue  in  your  resolution  of 
returning  to  America,  through  France,  I shall  certainly  render 
you  any  of  the  little  services  in  my  power:  but  there  are  so  many 
difficulties  at  present  in  getting  passages  hence,  particularly 
safe  ones  for  women,  that  methinks  1 should  advise  your  stay 
till  more  settled  times,  and,  till  a more  frequent  intercourse  is 
established. 


B.  Franklin  to  Mrs.  Wright. 


133 


“ As  to  the  exercise  of  your  art  here,  I am  in  doubt  whether 
it  would  answer  your  expectations.  Here  are  two  or  three 
who  profess  it,  and  make  a show  of  their  works  on  the  Boule- 
vards ; but  it  is  not  the  taste  for  persons  of  fashion  to  sit  to 
these  artists  for  their  portraits:  and  both  house-rent  and  living 
at  Paris  are  very  expensive. 

“ I thought  that  friendship  required  I should  acquaint  you 
with  these  circumstances;  after  which  you  will  use  yout*  dis- 
cretion. 

“ l am,  he. 

“ B.  Frankly.” 

[Written  in  the  envelope  of  the  above.) 

“P.  S.  My  grandson,  whom  you  may  remember  when  a little 
saucy  boy  at  school,  being  my  amanuensis  in  writing  the  within 
letter,  has  been  diverting  me  with  his  remarks.  He  conceives 
that  your  figures  cannot  be  packed  up,  without  damage  from 
any  thing  you  could  fill  the  boxes  with  to  keep  them  steady. 
He  supposes,  therefore,  that  you  must  put  them  into  post- 
chaises,  two  and  two,  which  will  make  a long  train  upon 
the  road,  and  be  a very  expensive  conveyance ; but  as  they 
will  eat  nothing  at  the  inns,  you  may  the  better  afford  it. 
When  they  come  to  Dover,  he  is  sure  they  are  so  like  life  and 
nature,  that  the  master  of  the  packet  will  not  receive  them  on 
board  without  passes  : which  you  will  do  well  therefore  to  take 
out  from  the  secretary’s  office,  before  you  leave  London  ; 
where  the}7  will  cost  you  only  the  modest  price  of  tw  o guineas 
and  sixpence  each,  which  you  will  pay  without  grumbling, 
because  you  are  sure  the  money  will  never  be  employed 
against  your  country.  It  will  require,  he  says,  five  or  six  of 
the  long  wdeker  French  stage  coaches  to  carry  them  as  pas- 
sengers from  Calais  to  Paris,  and  a ship  with  good  accommo- 
dations to  convey  them  to  America;  where  all  the  w7orld  will 

wonder  at  your  clemency  to  Lord  N ; that  having  it  in 

your  power  to  hang,  or  send  him  to  the  lighters,  you  had 
generously  reprieved  him  for  transportation.” 

The  Editor  in  the  following  note  has  called  this  lady,  Mrs. 
Mehetabel  Wright.  I write  with  her  letters  to  her  children 
before  me,  signed  “ Patience  Wright.”  She  is  further  said  to 
be  the  niece  of  John  Wesley,  and  born  in  Philadelphia,  w here 
her  parents  had  setttled,  all  which  is  as  false  as  a great  deal 
of  biography  I meet  with.  She  has  likewise  been  called  Sy- 
billa,  for  which  there  was  some  foundation,  as  she  professed 


134  Likenesses  modeled  by  Mrs.  Wright. 

sometimes  to  foretell  political  events,  and  was  called  the 
Sybill.* 

I have  before  me  an  engraving  published  in  1775,  repre- 
senting Mrs.  Wright  at  full  length  in  the  act  of  modelling  a 
bust  of  a gentleman.  In  the  London  Magazine  of  that  year, 
she  is  styled  the  Promethean  modeller.  In  that  work  it  is  said, 
“ In  her  very  infancy  she  discovered  a striking  genius,  and 
began  with  making  faces  with  new  bread  and  putty,  to  such 
excellence  that  she  was  advised  to  try  her  skill  in  wax.”  Her 
likenesses  of  the  King,  Queen,  Lords  Chatham  and  Temple, 
Messrs.  Barre,  Wilkes  and  others,  attracted  universal  admira- 
tion.” The  above  writer  says,  “ Her  natural  abilities  are  sur- 
passing, and  had  a liberal  and  extensive  education  been  added 
to  her  innate  qualities,  she  had  been  a prodigy.  She  has  an 
eye  of  that  quick  and  brilliant  water,  that  it  penetrates  and 
darts  through  the  person  it  looks  on  ; and  practice  has  made 
her  capable  of  distinguishing  the  character  and  dispositions  of 
her  visiters,  that  she  is  very  rarely  mistaken,  even  in  the  minute 
point  of  manners  ; much  more  so  in  the  general  cast  of  cha- 
racter.” 

Nine  years  after  the  above  was  written,  I was  introduced 
to  Mrs.  Wright,  but  too  young  and  careless  to  observe  her  cha- 
racter minutely.  The  expression  of  her  eye  is  remembered, 
and  an  energetic  wildness  in  her  manner.  While  conversing 
she  was  busily  employed  modelling,  both  hands  being  under 
her  apron.  She  had  three  children;  two  daughters  and  a son. 
The  son  will  occupy  another  page  of  this  work.  The  elder 
daughter  married  an  American  of  the  name  of  Platt,  and  inhe- 
riting some  of  her  mother’s  works  and  talent,  returned  to  this 
country  and  died  here.  Mrs.  Platt  made  herself  well  known 
in  New-York,  about  the  year  1787,  by  her  modelling  in  wax. 


* “ Mrs.  Mehetabel  Wright  was  altogether  a very  extraordinary  woman.  She 
was  the  niece  erf  the  celebrated  John  Wesley,  but  was  born  at  Philadelphia,  in 
which  city  her  parents  settled  at  an  early  period.  Mrs.  Wright  was  greatly  dis- 
tinguished as  a modeller  in  wax  ; which  art  she  turned  to  a remarkable  account 
in  the  American  war,  by  coming  to  England,  and  exhibiting  her  performances. 
This  enabled  her  to  procure  much  intelligence  of  importance,  which  she  commu- 
nicated to  Dr.  Franklin  and  others,  with  whom  she  corresponded  during  the 
whole  war.  As  soon  as  a general  was  appointed,  or  a squadron  begun  to  be 
fitted  out,  the  old  lady  found  means  of  access  to  some  family  where  she  could 
gain  information,  and  thus  without  being  at  all  suspected,  she  contrived  to  trans- 
mit an  account  of  the  number  of  the  troops,  and  the  place  of  their  destination  to 
her  political  friends  abroad.  She  at  one  time  had  frequent  access  to  Buckingham 
house  ; and  used,  it  is  said  to  speak  her  sentiments  very  freely  to  their  majes- 
ties, who  were  amused  with  her  originality.  The  great  lord  Chatham  honoured 
her  with  his  visits,  and  she  took  his  likeness  which  appears  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  Mrs.  Wright  died  very  old  in  February,  1785. 


135 


Her  letter  to  Mr.  Jefferson. 

The  younger  daughter  married  Hopner,  the  rival  of  Stuart  and 
Lawrence  as  a portrait  painter. 

The  only  work  that  l distinctly  remember  of  Mrs.  Wright’s 
is  a full  length  of  the  great  Lord  Chatham,  as  it  stood  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  in  1784,  enclosed  in  a glass  case. 

Anecdotes  are  related  of  the  eccentricities  of  Mrs.  Wright. 
Her  manners  were  not  those  of  a courtier.  She  once  had  the 
ear  and  favour  of  George  the  Third,  but  lost  it  by  scolding 
him  for  sanctioning  the  American  war.  She  was  intimate  with 
Mr.  West  and  his  family ; and  the  beautiful  form  and  face  of 
her  younger  daughter  is  frequently  to  be  found  in  his  historical 
compositions  : the  English  Consul  at  Venice,  mentioned  by 
Moore  in  his  life  of  Byron,  is  son  to  this  lady,  and  of  course 
grandson  to  Mrs.  Wright. 

In  1781,  Mrs.  Wright  went  to  Paris.  The  son,  Joseph 
Wright,  followed  in  1782,  and  remained  in  France  during 
part  of  the  year  ; and  I have  before  me  several  of  Mrs.  Wright’s 
letters  to  him,  replete  with  affection  and  good  sense,  written 
after  her  return  to  London  ; and  likewise  letters  to  him  in 
1783,  written  to  meet  him  in  America. 

In  1785,  Mrs.  Wright  sent  the  following  characteristic  letter 
to  Mr.  Jefferson,  then  in  Paris. 

“ London,  at  the  wax-work,  Aug.  14,  1785. 

“ Honoured  sir  : — l had  the  pleasure  to  hear  that  my  son 
Joseph  Wright  had  painted  the  best  likeness  of  our  Hero 
Washington,  of  any  painter  in  America;  and  my  friends  are 
anxious  that  I should  make  a likeness,  a bust  in  wax,  to  be 
placed  in  the  state-house,  or  some  new  public  building  that 
may  be  erected  by  congress.  The  flattering  letters  from  gen- 
tlemen of  distinguished  virtues  and  rank,  and  one  from  that 
general  himself,  wherein  he  says,  ‘He  shall  think  himself  hap- 
py to  have  his  bust  done  by  Mrs.  Wright,  whose  uncommon 
talents , fyc.  make  me  happy  in  the  prospect  of  seeing  him 

in  my  own  country. 

“I  most  sincerely  wish  not  only  to  make  the  likeness  of 
Washington,  but  of  those  Jive  gentlemen,  who  assisted  at  the 
signing  the  treaty  of  peace,  that  put  an  end  to  so  bloody  and 
dreadful  a war.  The  more  public  the  honours  bestowed  on 
such  men  by  their  country,  the  better.  To  shame  the  English 
king,  I would  go  to  any  trouble  and  expense  to  add  my  mite 
in  the  stock  of  honour  due  to  Adams,  Jefferson,  and  others,  to 
send  to  America;  and  I will,  if  it  is  thought  proper  to  pay  my 
expense  of  travelling  to  Paris,  come  myself  and  model  the  like- 
ness of  Mr.  Jefferson  ; and  at  the  same  time  see  the  picture, 


136 


Charles  Wilson  Peale. 


and  if  possible  by  this  painting,  which  is  said  to  be  so  like  him, 
make  a likeness  of  the  General.  I wish  likewise  to  consult 
with  you,  how  best  we  may  honour  our  country,  by  holding 
up  the  likenesses  of  her  eminent  men,  either  in  painting  or 
wax-work.  A statue  in  marble  is  already  ordered,  and  an 
artist  gone  to  Philadelphia  to  begin  the  work.  ( Houdon ) 
Thi  s is  as  I wished  and  hoped.” 

The  letter  concludes  by  hinting  the  danger  of  sending 
Washington’s  picture  to  London,  from  the  enmity  of  the  go- 
vernment, and  the  espionage  of  the  police ; which  she  says  has 
all  the  “ folly,  without  the  abilities  of  the  French.”  She  sub- 
scribes herself  “ Patience  Wright.”  In  the  same  year,  this 
extraordinary  woman  died. 

CHARLES  WILSON  PEALE— 1769. 

Succeeds  in  chronological  order.  His  son  Rembrandt  has 
published  two  memoirs  of  him,  which  I shall  use.  Charles 
Wilson  Peale  was  born  at  Chesterton,  on  the  eastern  shore  of 
Maryland,  April  16,  1741,  consequently  he  was  three  years 
younger  than  West  and  Copley,  who  were  born  in  1738.  He 
was  bound  apprentice  to  a saddler  in  Annapolis,  then  the  me- 
tropolis of  Maryland,  tie  married  before  he  was  twenty-one, 
aud  after  the  term  of  apprenticeship,  pursued  his  trade,  and 
as  appears  several  others,  for  he  attempted  coach-making,  and 
soon  added  clock  and  watch- making,  besides  working  as  a 
silver-smith,  and  beginning  to  try  his  hand  as  a painter.  Going 
to  Norfolk  to  buy  leather,  he  saw  the  paintings  of  Mr.  Frazier, 
above  mentioned,  and  he  thought  he  could  do  as  well  if  he  tried . 
Accordingly  on  returning  home,  he  did  try,  by  painting  a por- 
trait of  himself,  which  drew  him  into  notice,  and  determined 
him  henceforward  to  make  faces  instead  of  saddles.  This 
work,  the  portrait  of  himself  was  long  lost  to  the  world,  but 
forty  years  after  it  had  “ procured  him  employment”  as  a 
painter,  it  was  found  “ tied  up  as  a bag,  and  containing  a pound 
or  two  of  whiting.” 

Peale  visited  Philadelphia ; and  brought  home  materials 
for  portrait  painting,  and  a book  to  instruct  him,  “ the  hand- 
maid of  the  arts.”  He  found  another  instructor  on  his  return 
to  Annapolis,  in  Mr.  Hesselius,  an  English  artist,  who  like 
others  had  made  a circuit  of  the  provinces,  but  had  been  arrest- 
ed by  the  charms  of  a young  lady,  became  a married  man,  and 
settled  at  Annapolis.  Mr.  Peale  having  an  opportunity  to 
make  a voyage,  passage  free,  to  Boston,  in  a schooner  belong- 
ing to  his  brother-in-law,  visited  that  famous  town,  then  the 


Peale  in  Boston  and  in  London. 


137 


most  conspicuous  place  in  America,  and  he  there  found  Cop- 
ley established  as  a portrait-painter.  Mr.  Copley  received  the 
aspiring-  saddler  kindly,  and  lent  him  a picture  to  copy.  “The 
sight  of  Mr.  Copley’s  picture-room,”  says  his  son  Rem- 
brandt, in  the  Cabinet  of  Natural  History,  published  1830 
by  Doughty,  Philadelphia,  “afforded  him  great  enjoyment 
and  instruction.”  From  this  we  inter,  that  although  called 
by  his  son  “a  pupil  of  Hesselius,”  Peale  had  no  permanent  con- 
nexion with  that  gentleman. 

The  voyage  to  Boston  took  place  in  1768-9,  and  on  Mr. 
Peale’s  returning  to  Annapolis,  he  decided  upon  a voyage  to 
England  as  soon  as  practicable.  His  wishes  were  seconded 
by  several  gentlemen  of  that  city,  and  a subscription  made  to 
forward  his  enterprise,  he  engaging  to  repay  the  loan  with  pic- 
tures on  his  return.  Accordingly  he  proceeded  to  London 
bearing  letters  to  Mr.  West,  and  arrived  in  the  year  1770. 
West  received  his  ingenious  and  enterprising  countryman 
frankly,  and  imparted  instructions  for  his  conduct  and  study. 
The  scanty  funds  of  Peale  being  soon  exhausted,  the  benevolent 
West  received  him  into  his  house,  that  he  might  not  lose  the 
opportunity  of  improvement  anticipated  from  his  voyage. 

Peale  remained  in  London  from  1770  to  1774.  “At  this 
time,”  says  his  biographer,  “ Stuart  and  Trumbull  were  like- 
wise students  with  Mr.  West.”  Not  so.  Stuart  went  to  Lon- 
don in  1775,  and  remained  in  that  city  unknown  to  West  un- 
til 1778,  and  Trumbull  did  not  reach  London  until  after  he 
had  studied  painting  in  Boston,  during  parts  of  the  years 
1777-78  and  79.  He  sailed  for  Europe  in  the  spring  of  1 780. 
These  dates  prove  that  the  following  anecdote,  although  stated 
by  Mr.  Rembrandt  Peale  in  the  memoir  of  his  father,  publish- 
ed in  Leiber’s  Encyclopedia  Americana,  cannot  be  true: — 
“ The  writer  of  this  article  was  informed  by  Colonel  Trum- 
bull, that  one  day  when  he  was  in  Mr.  West’s  painting-room, 
some  hammering  arrested  his  attention,  £ Oh,’  said  Mr.  West, 

‘ that  is  only  that  ingenious  young  Mr.  Peale,  repairing  some 
of  my  bells  and  locks.’  ” Though  we  dismiss  the  above  proof 
of  Mr.  Peale’s  mechanical  propensities,  we  insert  another  in- 
stance with  pleasure.  It  is  a more  pleasing  duty  to  display 
truth,  than  to  detect  and  expose  error,  but  we  shall  not  shrink 
from  the  latter  duty,  cost  what  it  may.  Mr.  Leslie,  in  one  of 
his  letters  from  West  Point,  says,  “Charles  Wilson  Peale, 
Rembrandt’s  father,  was  a pupil  of  West’s.  Mr.  West  painted 
to  the  last  with  a palette,  which  Peale  had  most  ingeniously 
mended  for  him,  after  he  (West)  had  broken  and  thrown  it 
aside  as  useless.  It  was  a small  palette  ; but  he  never  used  any 

18 


138 


Mr.  Peale's  various  avocations. 


other  for  his  largest  pictures.”  This  is  an  anecdote  showing 
the  gratitude  of  the  pupil,  and  the  regard  which  his  illustrious 
master  had  for  his  memory. 

Mr.  Peale,  who  seems  to  have  w ished  to  play  every  part  in 
life’s  drama,  not  content  with  being  a saddler,  a coach-maker, 
a clock  and  watch-maker,  a silver-smith,  and  a portrait-painter, 
studied  while  in  London  modelling  in  wax,  moulding  and 
casting  in  plaster,  painting  in  miniature,  and  engraving  in 
mezzotinto.  These  were  studies  allied  to  painting. 

On  his  return  to  Annapolis  in  1774,  he  found  constaut  em- 
ployment at  portrait-painting.  He  was  now  probably  the  only 
portrait-painter  in  that  region.  Mr.  Peale,  having  brothers 
and  sisters,  made  them  all  painters.  His  brother  James  be- 
came a respectable  miniature  painter. 

In  the  year  1776,  Charles  Wilson  Peale  established  himself 
in  Philadelphia,  and  as  a captain  of  volunteers,  he  joined 
Washington,  and  was  present  at  the  battles  of  Trenton  and 
Germantown.  He  found  time  while  in  camp  to  exercise  his 
pencil,  atid  painted  the  likenesses  of  many  officers. 

In  1779,  his  biographer  says,  he  represented  Philadelphia 
in  the  Pennsylvanian  legislature.  Thus  we  see  the  two  addi- 
tional avocations  of  soldier  and  statesman  engrafted  on  the  al- 
ready overloaded  stock.  It  was  a sturdy  stem  ; but  no  stem 
can  bring  to  maturity  the  best  fruit  of  so  many  different  kinds, 
if,  as  is  the  case  with  man,  its  life  is  too  short  to  bring  any 
one  to  perfection. 

Mr.  Rembrandt  Peale  asserts  that  his  father  was  employed 
in  painting  a miniature  of  General  Washington  at  a farm-house 
in  New-Jersey,  and  while  he  was  sitting  for  the  picture,  the 
general  received  “a  letter  announcing  the  surrender  of  Corn- 
wallis.” This  is  related  as  occurring  while  Mr.  Peale  was  in 
the  army,  as  a captain  of  volunteers.  “Mr.  Peale  had  his 
table  and  chair  near  the  window,  and  Washington  w7as  sitting 
on  the  side  of  a bed,  the  room  being  too  small  for  another 
chair.  His  aid  de  camp,  Colonel  Tilghman  was  present.  It 
was  an  interesting  moment,  but  the  sitting  was  continued,  as 
the  miniature  was  intended  for  Mrs.  Washington.”  The  sur- 
render of  Cornwallis  was  a stupendous  event,  and  the  moment 
the  news  was  received  was  an  interesting  moment  to  all  Ame- 
ricans ; but  the  surrender  took  place  the  19th  of  October,  1781, 
and  Washington  was  at  Yorktown,  Virginia,  commanding  the 
army  to  which  the  Briton  surrendered,  and  on  the  field  to  re- 
ceive the  earl,  and  his  invading  army.  He  received  the  army 
and  his  lordship’s  sword  ; but  liis  lordship  excused  himself  on 
the  plea  of  indisposition  from  attending  in  person  on  the  humi- 


Peale’s  Museum . 


139 


bating  ceremony.  We  presume  that  the  incident  Mr.  Rem- 
brandt Peale  meant  to  record  of  his  father  and  General  Wash- 
ington, belonged  to  an  earlier  portion  of  American  history, 
and  by  substituting  the  name  of  Burgoyne  for  Cornwallis, 
we  have  an  interesting  anecdote. 

From  1779  to  1785,  Mr.  Peale  applied  himself  assiduously 
to  painting  ; but  about  that  time  some  bones  of  a mammoth 
having  been  brought  to  him,  the  idea  of  forming  a museum, 
occurred  to  his  active  mind,  “ and  this  new  pursuit  engaged 
all  his  thoughts.”  He  now  became  a collector,  and  preserver 
of  birds  and  beasts,  fishes  and  insects — of  all  that  fly,  leap, 
creep,  or  swim,  and  all  things  else.  Strangers  and  citizens 
contributed  to  enlarge  his  collection,  and  in  a few'  years  his 
picture  gallery  at  the  corner  of  Lombard  and  Third  streets, 
after  several  enlargements  was  found  too  small  for  his  museum. 
It  was  then  removed  to  the  Philosophical  Hall,  and  there  it 
was  greatly  enlarged,  especially  by  the  skeleton,  which  was 
found  in  Ulster  county,  New-York,  and  disinterred  at  greaf 
expense  and  labour.  This  skeleton,  or  a similar  one,  waa 
sent  by  Mr.  Peale  to  London,  accompanied  by  his  sons  Rem- 
brandt and  Rubens. 

Mr.  Peale  now  became  a lecturer  on  Natural  History,  and 
“ his  lectures  were  attended  by  the  most  distinguished  citizens,” 
but  finding  that  the  loss  of  his  front  teeth  interfered  with  his 
oratory,  he  became  a dentist  to  supply  the  deficiency  ; first 
working  in  ivory,  and  then  making  porcelain  teeth  for  himself 
and  others. 

In  the  year  1791  Mr.  Peale  attempted  to  form  an  associa- 
tion as  an  Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  in  Philadelphia.  The  only 
artists  named  by  his  biographer  as  joining  in  the  scheme  are 
Ceracchi,  the  celebrated  sculptor,  and  Mr.  Rush,  who,  though 
by  trade  a carver  of  ships’-heads,  was,  by  talent  and  study,  an 
artist.  There  were  others,  natives  and  foreigners  ; proba- 
bly Joseph  Wright  was  among  them.  They  did  not  agree  in 
forming  a plan,  and  separated.  Three  years  after  the  inde- 
fatigable Peale  made  another  effort  for  the  promotion  of  the 
Art  of  Designing ; collected  some  plaster-casts,  and  even  at- 
tempted a life  school.  Finding  no  persons  willing  to  exhibit 
themselves  for  hire  in  this  school,  his  zeal  induced  him  to  stand 
as  the  model.  An  exhibition  of  paintings  was  opened  in  the 
chamber  in  which  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  had  been 
signed,  and  pictures  lent  by  the  citizens  for  the  purpose.  This 
second  attempt  of  Peale’s  failed  likewise. 

Mr.  Peale  in  the  meantime  continued  prosperously  to  push 
his  own  fortunes,  and  the  fortunes  of  his  numerous  progeny. 


140 


The  names  of  Mr.  Peale’s  children. 

He  had  a succession  of  wives,  and  children  by  all ; his  last  con- 
sort was  Miss  Elizabeth  De  Peyster  of  New.- York.  In  the 
year  1809,  Mr.  Peale  actively  promoted  the  measures  which 
resulted  in  an  association  of  gentlemen  of  influence  and  fortune, 
(of  course  not  artists,)  who  erected  the  building,  called  “ The 
Pennsylvania  Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts,”  imported  casts,  and 
purchased  pictures.  “ Mr.  Peale,”  says  his  biographer,  “ lived 
to  see,  and  contribute  to  seventeen  annual  exhibitions,”  in  the 
galleries  of  this  institution.  The  establishment  of  this  nomi- 
nal academy,  called  forth  a letter  from  Mr.  West  to  Mr.  Peale, 
dated  September  19,  1809,  (which  is  published  in  the  Port 
Folio  of  1810,  with  the  vulgar  error  of  making  the  writer  “ Sir 
Benjamin.”)  West  expresses  his  gratification  at  the  esta- 
blishment of  an  academy  in  Philadelphia,  “for  cultivating 
the  art  of  delineation.”  He  argues  from  the  flourishing 
state  of  the  Fine  Arts  in  Greece  and  Rome,  when  they  were 
flourishing,  and  their  degradation,  with  the  degradation  of  the 
state,  that  as  America  is  rising  in  greatness  to  political  supre- 
macy, she  will  rise  proportionably  in  civilization  and  the  arts. 

In  all  these  attempts  to  introduce  the  arts  of  design,  and  the 
cultivation  of  science,  Charles  Wilson  Peale  did  his  part,  as 
far  as  circumstances  permitted,  and  honourably  under  every 
circumstance . In  the  year  1827,  he  closed  his  long  and  busy 
life,  at  the  age  of  eighty-five.  In  height,  he  was  rather  below 
the  middle  size,  but  compactly  formed  and  athletic.  He  had 
not  experienced  the  usual  infirmities,  “ which  flesh  is  heir  to” 
through  life,  nor  that  decay  attending  age  in  others  ; and 
talked  confidently  of  enjoying  life  for  many  years  to  come  : 
nay  sometimes,  as  if  death  was  not  the  legitimate  heir  of  all  of 
earthly  mould.  He  injured  himself  by  exertions  of  his  strength 
and  activity.  A disease  of  the  heart  ensued  ; and  after  some 
partial  amendments  and  relapses,  death  claimed  his  own. 

Mr.  Peale,  among  his  many  whims,  had  that  of  naming  his 
numerous  family  after  illustrious  characters  of  by-gone  ages, 
particularly  painters.  A dangerous  and  sometimes  ludicrous 
experiment.  Raphael,  Angelica  Kauffman,  Rembrandt,  Ru- 
bens, and  Titian,  and  many  other  great  folks,  were  all  his 
children. 

We  shall  sum  up  the  trades,  employments,  and  professions 
of  Mr.  Peale,  somewhat  as  his  biographer  in  the  Cabinet  of 
Natural  History  has  done.  He  was  a saddler;  harness-maker  ; 
clock  and  watch-maker;  silver-smith;  painter  in  oil,  crayons, 
and  miniature  ; modeler  in  clay,  wax,  and  plaister  : he  sawed 
his  own  ivory  for  his  miniatures,  moulded  the  glasses,  and 


141 


TrumbulVs  opinion  of  T Vest. 

made  tlie  shagreen  cases;  he  was  a soldier;  a legislator;  a 
lecturer;  a preserver  of  animals, — whose  deficiencies  he  sup- 
plied by  means  of  glass  eyes  and  artificial  limbs ; he  was  a 
dentist — and  he  was,  as  his  biographer  truly  says,  “ a mild, 
benevolent,  and  good  man.” 

At  the  close  of  the  biographical  sketch  given  in  the  Cabinet 
of  Natural  History,  a passage  occurs  which  we  cannot  pass 
over  unnoticed.  It  is  an  observation  given  by  the  biographer, 
Mr.  Rembrandt  Peale,  as  from  Mr.  John  Trumbull,  for  many 
years  a pupil  and  protege  of  Mr.  West.  It  is  in  these  words, 
published  in  1830,  in  Philadelphia,  and  republished  in  New- 
York,  where  Mr.  Trumbull  resided  at  the  time,  and  after. 
“ That  an  interesting  comparison  might  be  drawn  between  Mr. 
Peale  and  his  countryman  Mr.  West,  who  was  a striking  in- 
stance how  much  could  be  accomplished  with  moderate  genius , 
by  a steady  and  undeviating  course  directed  to  a single  object, 
to  become  the  first  historical  painter  of  his  age;  whilst  the 
other  with  a more  lively  genius , was  able  to  acquire  an  extra- 
ordinary excellence  in  many  arts,  between  which  his  attention 
w7as  too  much  divided;  for  had  he  confined  his  operations  to 
one  pursuit,  he  probably  would  have  attained  the  highest  ex- 
cellence in  the  fine  arts.” 

Mr.  Peale’sson  is  justified  in  publishing  the  above  observa- 
tions ; but  nothing  can  justify  the  man  who  made  them.  A 
comparison  between  Peale  and  West,  to  those  who  knew  them 
and  know  their  works,  is  absolutely  ridiculous.  Where  is  the 
evidence  of  Mr.  Peale’s  genius  ? Perseverance  and  industry,  in 
well  doing,  cannot  be  too  much  praised.  West  was  indus- 
trious and  persevering  ; and  his  works  show  that  he  was  a man 
of  sublime  genius.  He  had  scarcely  attained  the  age  of  puber- 
ty when  he  rivalled  the  best  painter  in  Rome,  and  gained  aca- 
demical honours  throughout  Italy.  His  perseverance  and  in- 
dustry had  not  had  time  to  do  any  thing  for  him,  when  on  his 
arrival  in  London,  young  and  unknown,  he  produced  works, 
by  his  potent  genius,  which  placed  him  before  all  who  had 
preceded  him  in  England.  He  w as  immediately  acknowledged 
the  first  historical  painter  of  the  age. 

Now  Mr.  Peale  appears  rather  to  have  delighted  in  mecha- 
nical employments  ; and  his  genius  was  devoted  to  making- 
money.  There  have  been  men,  truly  of  a lively  genius,  who 
might  almost  be  compared  to  Mr.  Peale,  for  the  variety  of 
their  pursuits,  and  yet  excelled  both  as  artists  and  men.  We 
will  instance  Albert  Durer.  He  only  lived  57  years,  and  that 
in  the  15lh  and  16th  century,  yet  he  is  in  the  19th,  the  pride 
of  Germany  as  a painter.  He  was  a goldsmith  ; a great  en- 


142 


Henry  Bembridge. 

graver  on  copper  ; he  engraved  in  wood  with  a skill  that  long 
remained  unrivalled  ; he  was  a carver  in  wood  and  ivory;  he 
wrote  treatises  in  his  native  tongue,  on  perspective,  anatomy, 
geometry,  architecture,  fortification,  painting,  and  the  scrip- 
tures ; and  translated  them  into  Latin,  French  and  Italian. 
Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  Albert  Durer  was  a member  of 
the  legislature  of  a free  and  self-governed  republic.  The 
works  of  West  and  Durer  will  go  down  to  posterity  ; those  of 
Charles  Wilson  Peale  will  soon  be  forgotten,  although  several 
portraits  painted  by  him  in  his  old  age,  deserve  preservation, 
and  call  forth  admiration. 

WINSTANLEY— 1769, 

is  known  about  this  time  to  have  painted  in  the  colonies. 
But  of 

HENRY  BEMBRIDGE — 1770, 

although  we  cannot  give  so  full  an  account  as  we  wish,  we 
have  rescued  something  from  oblivion.  At  a very  early  period 
we  heard  of  this  gentleman,  as  one  who  had  gone  to  Rome  to 
study  painting.  Mr.  Bembridge  was  born  in  Philadelphia 
about  the  year  1750.  Being  left  at  liberty  to  pursue  the  bent 
of  his  inclination  by  the  death  of  parents,  he  devoted  his  patri- 
mony in  aid  of  his  desire  to  become  a painter,  no  doubt  stimu- 
lated by  the  success  of  West ; and  he  w7as  the  second  Ameri- 
can who  studied  the  fine  arts  at  Rome.  Mr.  Bembridge  was 
a gentleman  by  birth,  and  had  received  a liberal  education  ; 
the  time  of  his  visiting  Italy  we  must  suppose  to  be  1770  : and 
before  he  left  Philadelphia  he  had  shown  his  love  of  the  arts 
by  painting  tbe  pannels  of  a room  in  his  paternal  dwelling  with 
designs  from  history.  In  Rome  he  became  the  pupil  of  Pom- 
peio  Battoni,  and  received  instruction  from  Mengs.  We  have 
reason  to  believe  that  he  returned  to  America  in  1774,  and 
commenced  painting  in  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  where  he 
was  the  instructor  of  Thomas  Coram.  Sometime  after  the 
war  of  the  revolution,  Mr.  Bembridge  painted  in  Philadelphia. 
He  is  thus  mentioned  by  James  Peller  Malcolm:  “Mr.  Bem- 
bridge, a relation  and  brother-student  of  Mr.  West,  who  had 
spent  several  years  at  Rome,  flattered  me  with  his  approba- 
tion, and  advised  an  immediate  voyage  to  Great  Britain.”  He 
was  neither  a relation,  nor  brother-student  of  West. 

He  married  Miss  Sage  of  Philadelphia,  and  I met  a son 
of  his  in  Perth  Amboy,  in  i 800,  whose  residence  was  Phila- 
delphia, and  who  was  at  the  time  married  to  the  eldest  daugh- 
ter of  Commodore  Truxton.  I at  this  time  saw  several  por- 


143 


Bembridge,  the  first  instructor  of  Sully  in  oil . 

traits  in  small  full-length,  of  the  Truxton  family,  by  the  artist, 
and  they  are  the  only  specimens  I ever  saw  of  his  skill.  I 
remember  them  as  being  solidly  painted,  well  drawn,  like  the 
personages,  but  hard  and  without  any  distinguishing  mark  of 
taste  ; still  they  were  better  than  those  of  Charles  Wilson 
Peale  of  the  same  date. 

Mr.  Bembridge  was  a gentleman  of  good  classical  educa- 
tion, great  devotion  to  the  art,  and  persevering  industry.  He 
had  the  same  advantages  in  Italy  that  West  had  had  ; and  yet, 
notwithstanding  Reynolds’s  remark  that  nothing  is  denied  to 
perseverance  and  industry  well  directed,  he  acquired  all  his 
nature  was  seemingly  capable  of,  in  three  or  four  years  study. 
In  the  year  1799,  Mr.  Thomas  Sully,  then  a youth,  found 
Mr.  Bembridge  settled  in  high  estimation  at  Norfolk,  Virgi- 
nia. His  works  excited  Sully  to  attempt  oil-painting,  and  to 
introduce  himself  to  the  veteran  painter,  Sully  sat  to  him  for 
his  picture,  and  was  “ well  repaid,”  as  he  has  said,  “ by  his 
useful  and  kind  instruction.” 

After  living  in  high  estimation  as  a man  and  artist  many 
years  in  the  Carolinas  and  Virginia,  Mr.  Bembridge  returned 
to  his  native  city,  Philadelphia,  and  died  in  obscurity  and 
poverty. 

We  will  conclude  our  brief  memoir  by  quoting  from  our 
correspondents  who  have  answered  our  queries  on  the  subject 
of  Mr.  Bembridge. 

Mr.  Allston  says  Bembridge  left  many  portraits  of  his 
painting  in  South  Carolina,  but  he  does  not  remember  them 
sufficiently  to  speak  of  their  merits. 

Mr.  McMurtrie  says,  “ He  was  a promising  young  man, 
but  did  not  realize  much.  His  portraits  are  stiff  and  formal. 
He  painted  drapery  well,  particularly  silks  and  satins.” 

Mr.  Charles  Fraser  says  : “ Bembridge  painted  a good  deal 
in  Charleston : he  had  had  great  advantages,  having  studied 
in  Rome  under  Mengs  and  Pompeio  Battoni.”  Of  Battoni 
the  reader  will  find  in  these  pages  an  anecdote  that  will  not 
exalt  him  in  his  opinion.  It  is  certain  that  the  portraits  by 
Bembridge  were  sought  after  eagerly  on  his  return,  and  he  was 
held  in  high  estimation  by  his  cotemporaries.  Mr.  Fraser 
adds:  “ The  generation  with  whom  he  lived  is  passed  away, 
and  all  means  of  information  are  gone  with  it.  I capnot  say 
that  I admire  his  portraits.  They  bear  evident  marks  of  a 
skilful  hand,  but  want  that  taste  which  gives  to  portrait  one  of 
its  greatest  charms.  His  shadows  were  dark  and  opaque,  and 
more  suitable  to  the  historical  style.  I have  however  seen  one 
ortwo  of  his  pictures,  which  I thought  displayed  great  know- 


144  Cosmo  Alexa  rider  ~Woolaston~Dur  and. 

ledge  of  the  art.”  We  must  remark  that  dark  and  opaque 
shadows,  though  they  may  be  more  tolerable  in  the  historic 
(in  certain  subjects)  than  in  the  portrait  style,  are  faults  in  any 
style.  Nature  disclaims  them,  and  she  is  the  only  teacher  of 
true  art. 

Mr.  Sully  describes  Mr.  Bembridge  as  a portly  man,  of 
good  address — gentlemanly  in  his  deportment.  He  told  a 
good  story,  and  was  in  other  respects  not  unlike  Gilbert 
Stuart. 

The  next  person  who  calls  for  our  attention  is  a Scotch  gen- 
tleman of  t le  name  of 

COSMO  ALEXANDER— 1772, 

who  painted  portraits  in  Newport,  Rhode-Island  in  1772.  As 
all  we  know  of  this  gentleman  is  from  Doctor  Waterhouse, 
and  is  incorporated  with  the  memoir  soon  to  follow,  that  of 
Gilbert  C.  Stuart,  we  here  merely  notice,  that  at  the  time  of 
his  arrival  Mr.  Alexander  was  between  fifty  and  sixty — that 
he  painted  all  the  Scotch  gentlemen  of  the  place,  and  finding 
Stuart  a promising  boy,  he  gave  him  lessons,  and  finally  took 
the  youth  with  him  to  South  Carolina,  and  thence  to  Edinburgh. 
Shortly  after  his  arrival  in  his  native  country,  he  died. 

WOOLASTON— 1772. 

This  English  gentleman  visited  the  colonies  about  the  year 
1772,  and  painted  a great  many  pictures  in  Virginia  and  Ma- 
ryland. Many  of  his  portraits  are  yet  to  be  seen  in  Peters- 
burg. Mr.  Robert  Sully,  who  has  kindly  exerted  himselt 
in  making  researches  into  the  antiquities  of  art  in  Virginia  to 
assist  the  writer,  says,  “ The  only  artists  that  are  remembered 
by  the  oldest  inhabitants,  are  Durand,  Manly,  and  Wool- 
aston — the  first  tolerable,  the  second  execrable,  and  the  third 
very  good.  His  portraits  possess  unquestionable  merit.  Among 
those  in  Petersburg,  is  the  grandmother  of  the  late  John 
Randolph  of  Roanoke,  an  excellent  portrait.  The  pictures  of 
Woolaston  are  very  much  in  the  Kneller  style  ; more  feeble 
than  the  style  of  Reynolds,  but  with  a very  pretty  taste.” 

DURAND— 1772, 

I place  at  this  date,  but  with  uncertainty.  My  only  know- 
ledge of  him  is  from  Mr.  R.  Sully,  who  says,  “He  painted  an 
immense  number  of  portraits  in  Virginia  ; his  works  are  hard 
and  dry,  but  appear  to  have  been  strong  likenesses,  with  less 
vulgarity  of  style  than  artists  of  his  calibre  generally  possess.” 


145 


Engraving. 

Of  the  pictures  brought  or  sent  to  Virginia,  Mr.  Sully  says, 
“ There  are  certainly  a few  pictures  in  some  of  the  old  family 
mansions,  of  considerable  merit,  sent  to  this  country  from  Eng- 
land during  the  existence  of  the  colonies,  but  it  is  impossible 
to  conjecture  who  the  artists  were,  as  no  record  is  attached  to 
them,  and  they  are  remembered  by  the  possessors  as  old 
fixtures . 

MANLY— 1772, 

A very  bad  portrait-painter,  and  only  mentioned  as  one  of 
the  pioneers  of  the  arts.  He  painted  in  Virginia. 

SMITH— 1772. 

This  gentleman  is  known  among  American  travellers,  par- 
ticularly artists  who  visit  Italy,  as  old  Mr.  Smith.  He  is  said 
to  have  been  116  years  of  age  in  1834.  If  so,  he  was  born 
in  the  year  1718.  He  is  a native  of  Long-Island,  state  of 
New-York,  brother  to  the  well-remembered  Doctor  Smith, 
(whose  eccentric  character  and  verses  afforded  more  amuse- 
ment than  instruction,)  and  uncle  to  Col.  William  Smith,  an 
aid  to  Washington,  and  son-in-law  to  John  Adams.  Mr. 
Smith  devoted  himself  to  painting,  and  was  probably  the  third 
American  who  pursued  the  coy  art  to  Italy,  West  being  the 
first  and  Bembridge  the  second.  Smith  never  became  a dis- 
tinguished artist,  and  fell  into  the  trade  of  picture-dealer,  by 
which  it  is  believed  that  he  acquired  a competency  for  old  age. 
He  lives  near  Florence. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Sketch  of  the  history  of  engraving— Implements  used— Early  engravers  in 

America. 

The  earliest  specimens  of  engraving  are  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, and  the  first  artist  on  record  is  Martin  Sclioen,  of  Culm- 
bach,  who  died  in  I486.  The  Italians  claim  the  invention; 
but  it  is  remarkable  that  the  first  book  printed  at  Rome  had 
the  first  engravings  executed  there,  and  they  were  done  by 
two  Germans — the  date  1478.  The  names  of  Lucas  Jacobs 
and  Albert  Durer  are  too  well  known  to  require  notice  here. 
We  shall  mention  both  in  our  history  of  wood  engraving, 
which,  though  preceding  that  on  copper,  was  not  so  soon 
practised  with  us. 

In  the  sixteenth  century  the  Italian  painters  etched  and  en- 

19 


146 


History  of  Engraving. 

graved  on  copper.  Other  artists  devoted  themselves  to  en- 
graving alone,  and  worked  from  the  designs  of  RafTaelle  and 
the  great  men  who  reared  the  fabric  of  art  at  that  period. 
Still  the  German  and  Dutch  artists  led  the  way,  and  Cort  was 
the  first  engraver  on  large  plates,  and  the  instructor  of  many 
Italians. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  the  art  began  to  flourish  in 
France,  and  encouraged  by  Colbert,  attained  high  perfection. 
But  the  most  distinguished  artist  of  the  time  was  Edelinck  of 
Antwerp.  The  history  of  the  art  in  France  in  the  next  cen- 
tury is  the  same— a German,  Wille,  being  the  best  engraver. 

The  Flemish  and  Dutch  painters  etched  and  engraved. 
Vandyke,  Bol,  Ruysdael,  and  many  others,  practised  the  art 
with  taste  and  success. 

The  true  mode  of  giving  a history  of  engraving  would  be  by 
a series  of  prints  illustrative  of  its  progress.  This  forms  no 
part  of  our  plan,  and  is  far  beyond  our  power.  Our  sketch  of 
the  history  of  the  art  is  merely  to  illustrate  what  we  may  here- 
after say  of  the  progress  of  the  arts  in  America. 

In  England  both  painting  and  engraving  were  indebted  to 
foreigners,  generally  Flemish,  Dutch  and  German,  for  exist- 
ence, until  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Of  early 
English  artists  one  of  the  most  eminent  is  George  Vertue,  who 
died  in  1756. 

The  founder  of  the  school  of  English  landscape  engraving, 
is  Francis  Vivares,  a Frenchman.  But  the  greatest  of  the 
school  is  a native  of  England,  Woollett.  They  both  carried 
the  plates  a great  way  towards  the  completion  by  etching,  and 
finished  with  the  graver — the  usual  mode  now  practised. — 
Woollett  was  not  confined  to  landscape,  as  his  great  work, 
after  West’s  Death  of  Wolfe,  sufficiently  proves.  England 
now  stands,  and  has  for  many  years  stood,  pre-eminent  in  en- 
gravers and  engraving. 

The  works  of  Hogarth  must  not  be  passed  over  unnoticed, 
even  in  this  brief  sketch.  To  mention  them  is  to  praise  them, 
both  as  productions  of  the  engraver  and  the  painter.  In  the 
latter  character  he  is  now  acknowledged  as  among  the  glories 
of  the  art ; in  point  of  time,  the  first  great  English  painter  ; in 
merit,  equal  to  the  best. 

Engraving,  or  working  with  the  graver,  was  the  first  or  old- 
est practice  ; etching  followed,  and  became  an  auxiliary  to  the 
graver — -this  is  working  the  lines  through  wax,  or  a prepara- 
tion of  it,  and  biting  them  in  the  metal  by  acids.  Mezzotinto 
is  produced  by  making  the  copper  a mass  of  roughness,  which, 
if  printed,  would  be  one  black  spot ; and  then  scraping  out 


Nathaniel  Hurd 


147 


the  various  degrees  of  tint  and  light.  This  was  a Dutch  in- 
vention likewise,  and  has  been  attributed  to  Prince  Rupert. 
Stippling  is  another  mode  of  engraving. 

The  ruling  machine,  invented  by  Wilson  Lowry,  of  Lon- 
don, has  given  great  facility  to  the  engraving  of  skies,  and  all 
subjects  which  require  parallel  lines. 

The  instruments  used  by  engravers  are  the  burin  or  gra- 
ver ; this  makes  an  incision  in  the  plate  as  it  is  guided  by 
the  hand.  The  burnisher  is  used  to  soften  lines  if  cut  too 
deep.  The  scraper  is  a steel  instrument  whose  use  is  to  take 
off  the  barb  formed  by  the  action  of  the  graver.  Needles  of 
various  diameters  are  used  to  form  the  lines  through  the  hard 
or  soft  grounds  in  etching,  and  sometimes  in  dry  etching — 
that  is,  when  the  plate  is  touched  without  being  covered  with 
a ground.  The  tools  used  in  mezzotinto  work  are  for  making 
the  plate  uniformly  rough,  and  for  scraping  out  the  lights  ; and 
the  ruling  machine  is  used,  as  before  mentioned,  in  etching. 
Engraving  on  wood  we  notice  in  other  parts  of  our  work. 

As  this  introductory  sketch  is  not  intended  to  instruct  art- 
ists, but  merely  to  illustrate  wdiat  shall  be  said  of  the  progress 
of  engraving  in  the  United  States,  we  refer  the  reader  for 
further  information  to  Sturt,  Landseer,  and  the  very  many 
books  treating  on  the  subject. 

The  first  engraver  in  our  country,  in  point  of  time,  that 
comes  within  our  knowledge,  is 

NATHANIEL  HURD— 1764, 

who,  according  to  a writer  in  Buckingham’s  New-England 
Magazine,  (a  work  to  which  we  are  indebted  for  all  we  know 
of  Hurd,)  engraved  “ a miniature  likeness  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Sewall,  minister  of  the  old  South  church  in  Boston,”  “ in  the 
linear  style,  in  1764.  In  this  art  he  was  his  own  instructor. 
There  are  still  extant  a few  pictures  of  a different  character, 
done  on  copper,  by  Hurd,  about  the  same  period.”  “ Hurd,” 
says  the  same  writer,  “ was  a real  genius.  To  a superior 
mode  of  execution,  he  added  a Hogarthian  talent  of  character 
and  humour.  Among  other  things  of  his”  of  course  designed 
by  himself,  “ he  engraved  a descriptive  representation  of  a 
certain  swindler  and  forger  of  bills,  named  Hudson,  a foreign- 
er, standing  in  the  pillory.  In  the  crowd  of  spectators,  he  in- 
troduced the  likenesses  of  some  well  known  characters. 

“ In  the  year  1762,  there  appeared  in  Boston  a curious  cha- 
racter who  called  himself  Dr.  Hudson,”  who,  and  an  agent 
employed  by  him  of  the  name  of  Howe,  were  convicted  of  for' 


148 


Paul  Revere. 


gery  and  uttering  “ province  notes.”  “ Hudson  was  ordered 
to  the  pillory,  and  Howe  to  the  whipping-post.”  “ Hurd  im- 
mediately put  out  a caricature  print  of  the  exhibition.”  The 
Doctor  was  in  the  pillory,  and  Howe  preparing  to  undergo 
his  degrading  punishment.  “ The  devil  is  represented  flying 
towards  the  Doctor,  exclaiming,  This  is  the  man  for  me.  In 
front  of  the  print  is  the  representation  of  a medallion,  on  which 
is  a profile  of  Hudson,  dressed  in  a bag  wig,  with  a sword 
under  his  arm,  (as  he  generally  appeared  before  his  detection,) 
partly  drawn  from  the  scabbard,  with  the  words  Dutch  Tuck 
on  the  exposed  part  of  the  blade.  Round  the  edge  is,  The 
TRUE  PROFILE  OF  THE  NOTORIOUS  DOCTOR  SETH  HUDSON, 

1762.  The  Doctor  is  made  to  speak  as  well  as  the  devil,  but 
he  speaks  in  verse.  The  print  is  marked  1 Sold  by  N.  Hurd, 
near  the  Exchange,  at  the  Heart  and  Crown,  in  Cornhill, 
Boston.’  ” 

In  our  days  of  childhood  we  remember  seeing  caricature 
prints  executed  in  Philadelphia,  generally  political,  one  in  par- 
ticular, in  which  the  devil  and  Doctor  Franklin  were  intro- 
duced, his  majesty  with  a label  from  hismouth,  saying,  “Never 
mind,  Ben  ! you  shall  be  my  agent  yet.”  Judge  Hopkinson 
told  us  that  he  saw  rude  prints  of  this  description  in  a journey 
through  Lancaster,  Pennsylvania,  and  wished  to  purchase 
them,  but  the  possessors  conceiving  that  what  the  judge  wished 
must  be  of  great  value,  demanded  a price  so  far  beyond  rea- 
son, that  he  relinquished  all  thought  of  buying. 

The  writer  above  quoted  from  says  further  of  Mr.  Hurd, 
“He  was  born  in  Boston,  February  13th,  1730,  and  died  De- 
cember 17th,  1777,  before  he  had  attained  the  age  of  forty- 
eight.  There  is  an  original  picture  of  him,  painted  by  Copley, 
in  the  possession  of  one  of  his  relatives  at  Medford,  Mass. 
From  that  picture  a man  by  the  name  of  Jennings  (of  whom 
we  can  learn  little  else)  engraved  a likeness  in  mezzotinto.” 

PAUL  REVERE— 1770, 

is  the  next  artist,  in  point  of  time,  that  handled  the  graver  in 
our  country,  as  far  as  we  know,  and  our  knowledge  of  him  is 
derived  from  the  same  fountain  of  useful  information,  Bucking- 
ham’s New-England  Magazine.  Mr.  Revere’s  grandfather 
was  a French  Hugonot,  who  emigrated  to  Guernsey,  and  his 
father  married  and  settled  as  a goldsmith  in  Boston.  Paul 
was  brought  up  by  his  father  as  a goldsmith,  but  having  a na- 
tural taste  for  drawing,  he  designed  and  engraved  the  ornaments 
on  the  plates  wrought  at  the  shop. 


Revere’s  Caricatures. 


149 


In  1756  he  received  the  appointment  of  lieutenant  of  artil- 
lery, and  served  in  the  expedition  against  Crownpoint.  Re- 
turning to  Boston  he  married,  and  carried  on  the  business  of 
goldsmith,  which,  with  engraving,  and  the  study  of  mechanics 
as  a science,  occupied  him  during  a long  and  active  life. 

The  caricatures  of  Hurd  and  Revere  not  only  mark  the 
state  of  the  art  at  the  time,  but  of  society ; and  the  political 
temper  of  the  colonies,  particularly  Massachusetts. 

“ Engraving  on  copper  was  an  art  in  which,  as  in  some 
others,  he  was  self-instructed.  One  of  his  earliest  engravings 
of  this  description  was  a portrait  of  his  friend,  Dr.  Mayhew. 
In  1766,  he  engraved  on  copper  a picture,  emblematical  of  the 
repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act.  He  also  executed  a very  popular 
caricature,  of  the  * Seventeen  Rescinders.’  As  there  are  not 
extant  many  copies  of  this  print,  some  account  of  it  may  be 
interesting.  In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1768,  when  the 
measures  of  the  British  government  were  assuming  more  and 
more  of  a threatening  appearance,  the  house  of  represent- 
atives of  Massachusetts,  voted  to  send  a circular  letter  to  the 
legislatures  of  the  several  Provinces,  upon  the  alarming  state 
of  affairs  with  the  mother  country.  This  measure  gave  so 
much  umbrage  to  the  King,  that  he  sent  out  orders  to  Governor 
Bernard,  peremptorily  to  demand  that  the  said  vote  should 
be  rescinded  and  obliterated.  This  demand  being  judged  un- 
reasonable, after  debate,  a vote  was  passed  not  to  conform  to 
it.  Seventeen  members  only  voting  for  it , and  ninety-two 
against  it.  These  numbers  became  notorious  in  a political 
sense.  Seventeen  being  called  the  Tory  number,  and  the 
glorious  ninety-two , as  it  was  called,  was  denominated  that  of 
the  Whigs.  The  seventeen  members  were  branded  with  the 
name  of  rescinders , and  were  treated  in  the  most  contemp- 
tuous manner.  Mr.  Revere’s  caricature  helped  to  increase 
the  odium.  It  was  entitled,  “A  Warm  Place — Hell!” 
The  delineation  was  a pair  of  monstrous  open  jaws,  resembling 
those  of  a shark,  with  flames  issuing  from  them,  and  the  devil, 
with  a large  pitch-fork,  driving  the  seventeen  rescinders  into 
the  flames,  exclaiming,  “ Now  I've  got  you , — a fine  haul , by 
Jove."  As  a reluctance  is  shown  by  the  foremost  man,  at 
entering,  who  is  supposed  to  represent  the  Hon..  Timothy 
Ruggles,  of  Worcester  county,  another  devil  is  drawn,  with  a 
fork,  flying  towards  him,  and  crying  out,  “ Push  on,  Tim.” 
Over  the  upper  jaw  is  seen,  in  the  back  ground,  the  cupola  of 
the  Province  House,  with  the  Indian  and  bow  and  arrow,  (the 


150 


Revere’ s mechanical  skill. 


arms  of  the  Province,)  which  house  was  the  governor’s 
residence. 

“In  1770,  Mr.  Revere  published  an  engraved  print,  represent- 
ing the  massacre  in  King-street,  on  the  memorable  Fifth  of 
March,  and  in  1774,  another,  of  an  historical  character, 
representing  the  landing  of  the  British  troops  in  Boston. 
Copies  of  all  these,  though  extremely  rare,  are  still  extant.  A 
lithographic  fac-simile  of  the  print  first  mentioned,  has  been 
recently  republished. 

“ In  1775,  he  engraved  the  plates,  made  the  press,  and 
printed  the  bills,  of  the  paper-money,  ordered  by  the  provin- 
cial congress  of  Massachusetts,  then  in  session  at  Watertown. 
He  was  sent  by  this  congress  to  Philadelphia  to  obtain  in- 
formation respecting  the  manufacture  of  gunpowder.  The 
only  powder-mill,  then  in  the  colonies,  was  in  the  vicinity  of 
Philadelphia.  The  proprietor  refused  to  let  Revere  take  any 
drawing  or  specification  whatever,  or  any  memorandum  of  the 
manufacture,  but  consented  to  show  him  the  mill  in  full  opera- 
tion. His  mechanical  skill  was  now  brought  into  action. 
With  the  slight  information  thus  obtained,  he  was  able,  on  his 
return,  to  construct  a mill,  which  was  soon  put  in  operation, 
and  with  complete  success.”* 

The  following  extracts  from  his  letter  to  the  corresponding 
secretary  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  will  be  found 
interesting: 

“Dear  Sir, — In  the  fall  of  1774  and  winter  of  1775,  I was 
one  of  upwards  of  thirty,  chiefly  mechanics,  who  formed  our- 
selves into  a committee  for  the  purpose  of  watching  the  move- 
ments of  the  British  soldiers,  and  gaining  every  intelligence 
of  the  movements  of  the  tories.  We  held  our  meetings  at  the 
Green  Dragon  tavern.  We  were  so  careful  that  our  meetings 
should  be  kept  secret,  that  every  time  we  met,  every  person 
swore  upon  the  bible,  that  they  would  not  discover  any  of  our 
transactions,  but  to  Messrs.  Hancock,  Adams,  Doctors  War- 
ren, Church,  and  one  or  two  more. 

“ In  the  winter,  towards  the  spring,  we  frequently  took 
turns,  two  and  two,  to  watch  the  soldiers,  by  patrolling  the 
streets  all  night.  The  Saturday  night  preceding  the  19th 
of  April,  about  twelve  o’clock  at  night,  the  boats  belonging 
to  the  transports  were  all  launched,  and  carried  under  the 
sterns  of  the  men  of  war.  (They  had  been  previously  hauled 

* These  memoirs  of  Hurd  and  Revere,  I presume  to  be  from  the  pen  of  the  ven- 
erable and  learned  Doctor  Waterhouse  of  Cambridge,  Massachusetts,  from  whom 
much  valuable  matter  will  be  found  in  these  pages. 


Letter  to  the  Historical  Society. 


151 


up  and  repaired.)  We  likewise  found  that  the  grenadiers 
and  light  infantry  were  all  taken  off  duty. 

“ From  these  movements  we  expected  something  serious 
was  to  be  transacted.  On  Tuesday  evening,  the  18th,  it  was 
observed,  that  a number  of  soldiers  were  marching  towards 
the  bottom  of  the  common.  About  ten  o’clock,  Dr.  Warren 
sent  in  great  haste  for  me,  and  begged  that  I would  immedi- 
ately set  off  for  Lexington,  where  Messrs.  Hancock  and 
Adams  were,  and  acquaint  them  of  the  movement,  and  that  it 
was  thought  they  were  the  object.  When  I got  to  Dr.  War- 
ren’s house,  I found  he  had  sent  an  express  by  land  to  Lex- 
ington— a Mr.  William  Dawes.  The  Sunday  before,  by 
desire  of  Dr.  Warren,  I had  been  to  Lexington,  to  Messrs. 
Hancock  and  Adams,  who  were  at  the  Rev.  Mr.  Clark’s.  I 
returned  at  night  through  Charlestown  ; there  I agreed  with 
a Colonel  Conant,  and  some  other  gentlemen,  that  if  the 
British  went  out  by  water,  we  would  show  two  lanterns  in 
the  north  church  steeple  ; and  if  by  land  one  as  a signal  ; for 
we  were  apprehensive  it  would  be  difficult  to  cross  the  Charles 
river,  or  get  over  Boston  neck.  I left  Dr.  Warren,  called 
upon  a friend,  and  desired  him  to  make  the  signals.  1 then 
went  home,  took  my  boots  and  surtout,  went  to  the  north 
part  of  the  town,  where  I had  kept  a boat;  two  friends  rowed 
me  across  Charles  river,  a little  to  the  eastward  where  the 
Somerset  man-of-war  lay.  It  was  then  young  flood,  the  ship 
was  winding,  and  the  moon  was  rising.  They  landed  me  on 
the  Charlestown  side.  When  I got  into  town,  I met  Colonel 
Conant,  and  several  others  ; they  said  they  had  seen  our  sig- 
nals. I told  them  what  was  acting,  and  went  to  get  me  a 
horse.  I got  a horse  of  Deacon  Larkin.  While  the  horse  was 
preparing,  Richard  Devons,  Esq.  who  was  one  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Safety,  came  to  me,  and  told  me,  that  he  came  down 
the  road  from  Lexington,  after  sundown,  that  evening  ; that 
he  met  ten  British  officers,  all  well  mounted,  and  armed,  going 
up  the  road. 

“I  set  off  upon  a very  good  horse;  it  was  then  about  eleven 
o’clock,  and  very  pleasant.  After  I had  passed  Charlestown 
neck,  and  got  nearly  opposite  where  Mark  was  hung'in  chains, 
1 saw  two  men  on  horseback,  under  a tree.  When  I got  near 
them,  I discovered  they  were  British  officers.  One  tried  to 
get  ahead  of  me,  and  the  other  to  take  me.  I turned  my  horse 
very  quick,  and  galloped  towards  Charlestown  neck,  and  then 
pushed  for  the  Medford  road.  The  one  who  chased  me,  en- 
deavouring to  cut  me  off,  got  into  a clay  pond,  near  where  the 
new  tavern  is  now  built.  I got  clear  of  him,  and  went  through 


152  Events  preceding  the  Battle  of  Lexington . 

Medford,  over  the  bridge,  and  up  to  Menotomy.  In  Medford, 
I awoke  the  captain  of  the  minute  men  ; and  after  that,  I 
alarmed  almost  every  house,  till  l got  to  Lexington.  I found 
Messrs.  Hancock  and  Adams  at  the  Rev.  Mr.Clark’s ; I told 
them  my  errand,  and  inquired  for  Mr.  Dawes ; they  said  he 
had  not  been  there.  I related  the  story  of  the  two  officers,  and 
supposed  that  he  must  have  been  stopped,  as  he  ought  to  have 
been  there  before  me.  After  I had  been  there  about  half  an 
hour,  Mr.  Dawes  came ; we  refreshed  ourselves,  and  set  off 
for  Concord,  to  secure  the  stores,  &c.  there.  We  were  over- 
taken by  a young  Dr.  Prescot,  whom  we  found  to  be  a high 
son  of  liberty.  I told  them  of  the  ten  officers  that  Mr.  Devons 
met,  and  that  it  was  probable  we  might  be  stopped  before  we 
got  to  Concord  ; for  I supposed  that  after  night,  they  divided 
themselves,  and  that  two  of  them  had  fixed  themselves  in  such 
passages,  as  were  most  likely  to  stop  any  intelligence  going  to 
Concord.  I likewise  mentioned,  that  we  had  better  alarm  all 
the  inhabitants  till  we  got  to  Concord  ; the  young  Doctor 
much  approved  of  it,  and  said  he  would  stop  with  either  of  us, 
for  the  people  between  that  and  Concord  knew  him,  and 
would  give  the  more  credit  to  what  we  said.  We  had  got 
nearly  half  way  : Mr.  Dawes  and  the  Doctor  stopped  to  alarm 
the  people  of  a house  : I was  about  one  hundred  rods  ahead, 
when  I saw  two  men  in  nearly  the  same  situation  as  those 
officers  were,  near  Charlestown.  I called  for  the  Doctor  and 
Mr.  Dawes  to  come  up  ; in  an  instant  I was  surrounded  by 
four  ; — they  had  placed  themselves  in  a straight  road,  that 
inclined  each  way  ; they  had  taken  down  a pair  of  bars  on  the 
north  side  of  the  road,  and  two  of  them  were  under  a tree  in 
the  pasture.  The  Doctor  being  foremost,  he  came  up  ; and 
we  tried  to  get  past  them ; but  they  being  armed  with  pistols 
and  swords,  they  forced  us  into  the  pasture  ; — the  Doctor 
jumped  his  horse  over  a low  stone  wall,  and  got  to  Concord. 

J observed  a wood  at  a small  distance,  and  made  for  that. 
When  I got  there,  out  started  six  officers,  on  horseback,  and 
ordered  me  to  dismount ; — one  of  them  w ho  appeared  to  have 
the  command,  examined  me,  where  I came  from,  and  what  my 
name  was  ? I told  him.  He  asked  me  if  I was  an  express  ? 

I answered  in  the  affirmative.  He  demanded  what  time  I left 
Boston  ? I told  him,  and  that  I had  alarmed  the  country  all 
the  way  up.  He  immediately  rode  towards  those  who  stop- 
ped us,  when  all  five  of  them  came  down  upon  a full  gallop ; 
one  of  them,  whom  I afterwards  found  to  be  a Major 


153 


Revere  at  Lexington . 

Mitchel,  of  the  5th  regiment,  clapped  his  pistol  to  my 
head,  called  me  by  name,  and  told  me  he  was  going  to 
ask  me  some  questions,  and  if  I did  not  give  him  true 
answers,  he  would  blow  my  brains  out.  He  then  asked 
me  similar  questions  to  those  above.  He  then  ordered  me  to 
mount  my  horse,  after  searching  me  for  arms.  He  then 
ordered  them  to  advance  and  to  lead  me  in  front.  When  we 
got  to  the  road,  they  turned  down  towards  Lexington.  When 
we  had  got  about  one  mile,  the  major  rode  up  to  the  officer 
that  was  leading  me,  and  told  him  to  give  me  to  the  sergeant. 
As  soon  as  he  took  me,  the  major  ordered  him,  if  I attempted 
to  run,  or  any  body  insulted  them,  to  blow  my  brains  out. 
We  rode  till  we  got  near  Lexington  meeting-house,  when  the 
militia  fired  a volley  of  guns,  which  appeared  to  alarm  them 
very  much.  The  major  inquired  of  me  how  far  it  was  to 
Cambridge,  and  if  there  were  any  other  road?  After  some 
consultation,  the  major  rode  up  to  the  sergeant,  and  asked 
if  his  horse  was  tired  ? He  answered  him,  he  was — (He  was 
a sergeant  of  grenadiers,  and  had  a small  horse) — then,  said 
he,  take  that  man’s  horse.  I dismounted,  and  the  sergeant 
mounted  my  horse,  when  they  all  rode  towards  Lexington 
meeting-house.  I went  across  the  burying-ground,  and  some 
pastures,  and  came  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Clark’s  house,  where  I 
found  Messrs.  Hancock  and  Adams.  I told  them  of  my  treat- 
ment, and  they  concluded  to  go  from  that  house  towards 
Woburn.  I went  with  them,  and  a Mr.  Lowell,  who  was  a 
clerk  to  Mr.  Hancock.  When  we  got  to  the  house  where  they 
intended  to  stop,  Mr.  Lowell  and  myself  returned  to  Mr. 
Clark’s,  to  find  what  was  going  on.  When  we  got  there,  an 
elderly  man  came  in  ; he  said  he  had  just  come  from  the  tavern, 
that  a man  had  come  from  Boston,  who  said  there  were  no 
British  troops  coming.  Mr.  Lowell  and  myself  went  towards 
the  tavern,  when  we  met  a man  on  a full  gallop,  w ho  told  us 
the  troops  were  coming  up  the  rocks.  We  afterwards  met 
another,  who  said  they  wrere  close  by.  Mr.  Lowell  asked  me 
to  go  to  the  tavern  with  him,  to  get  a trunk  of  papers  belong- 
ing to  Mr.  Hancock.  We  went  up  chamber;  and  while  we 
were  getting  the  trunk,  we  saw  the  British  very  near,  upon  a 
full  march.  We  hurried  towards  Mr.  Clark’s  house.  In  our 
way,  we  passed  through  the  militia.  There  were  about  fifty. 
When  we  had  got  about  one  hundred  yards  from  the  meeting- 
house, the  British  troops  appeared  on  both  sides  of  the  meet- 
ing-house. In  their  front  was  an  officer  on  horseback.  They 
made  a short  halt;  when  I saw,  and  heard,  a gun  fired,  which 
appeared  to  be  a pistol.  Then  I could  distinguish  two  guns, 

20 


154 


Revere’ s revolutionary  services. 

and  then  a continual  roar  of  musketry;  when  we  made  off 
with  the  trunk.” 

“ After  the  British  evacuat?d  Boston,”  says  the  writer  of  the 
memoir  in  the  New-England  Magazine,  “ a regiment  ofartillery 
was  raised  for  the  defence  of  the  state.  In  this  regiment  he 
was  appointed  a major,  and  afterwards  a lieutenant-colonel, 
and  remained  in  the  service  until  the  peace.  During  all  this 
period,  he  might  be  said  to  hold  the  sword  in  one  hand,  and 
the  implements  of  mechanical  trades  in  the  other,  and  all  of 
them  subservient  to  the  great  cause  of  American  liberty. 
Whenever  any  thing  new  or  ingenious  in  the  mechanical  line 
was  wanted  for  the  public  good,  he  was  looked  to  for  the  con- 
summation of  the  design.  When  the  British  left  Boston,  they 
broke  the  trunnions  of  the  cannon  at  Castle  William,  (Fort 
Independence,)  and  Washington  called  on  Revere  to  render 
them  useful — in  which  he  succeeded  by  means  of  a newly  con- 
trived carriage. 

“ After  the  peace  he  resumed  his  business  as  a goldsmith. 
Subsequently  he  erected  an  air-furnace,  in  which  he  cast 
church  bells  and  brass  cannon.  Soon  after  this  time  a new 
era  commenced  in  ship  building.  Hitherto  all  vessels  had 
been  fastened  with  iron.  It  was  found  that  copper  sheathing, 
which  preserved  the  bottoms  of  vessels  from  worms,  in  the 
course  of  a few  years  destroyed  the  iron  bolts  and  spikes ; and 
copper  bolts  and  spikes  were  at  length  substituted  for  iron. 
This  engaged  his  attention,  and  after  repeated  trials  he  suc- 
ceeded in  manufacturing  the  article  to  his  satisfaction.  He 
then  erected  extensive  works  at  Canton,  in  the  county  of  Nor- 
folk, about  sixteen  miles  from  Boston,  for  the  rolling  of  copper 
as  well  as  for  the  casting  of  brass  guns  and  bells,  which  busi- 
ness is  still  continued  by  his  successors — an  incorporated  com- 
pany bearing  his  name. 

“ Colonel  Revere  was  the  first  President  of  the  Massachusetts’ 
Charitable  Mechanic  Association,  which  was  instituted  in  1795 
— a society,  which  has  embraced  the  principal  mechanics  of  all 
professions  in  Boston,  and  which  is  prominent  among  the 
variety  of  benevolent  and  useful  institutions  which  dignify  and 
embellish  the  metropolis  of  Massachusetts.  At  the  time  of  his 
death  he  was  connected  with  many  other  philanthropic  associa- 
tions, in  all  of  which  he  was  a munificent  and  useful  member. 
By  an  uncommonly  long  life  of  industry  and  economy,  he  had 
been  able  to  obtain  a competency  in  the  way  of  property,  and 
to  educate  a large  family  of  children,  many  of  whom  are  living 
to  participate  in  one  of  the  purest  and  most  affectionate  grati- 
fications that  a child  can  enjoy — the  contemplation  of  the 
character  of  an  upright,  patriotic  and  virtuous  father. 


Amos  Doolittle . 


155 


For  our  notice  of 

AMOS  DOOLITTLE-1771, 

we  are  principally  indebted  to  Barber’s  History  and  Antiqui- 
ties of  New-Haven,  published  in  1831.  We  remember  some 
of  the  Works  of  Mr.  Doolittle  from  the  year  1777,  but  to  Mr. 
Barber’s  book  we  are  indebted  for  the  following  advertisement 
and  note. 

“ This  day  published,  and  to  be  sold  at  the  store  of  Mr. 
James  Lockwood,  near  the  College  in  New-Haven,  four  differ- 
ent views  of  tbe  Battle  of  Lexington,  Concord,  &c.  on  the 
19th  of  April,  1775. 

“ Plate  I.  The  Battle  of  Lexington, 

II.  A view  of  the  town  of  Concord,  with  the  ministerial 
terial  troops  destroying  the  stores. 

III.  The  Battle  of  the  North  Bridge,  in  Concord. 

IV.  The  south  part  of  Lexington,  where  the  first  de- 

tachment were  joined  by  Lord  Percy. 

“ The  above  four  plates  are  neatly  engraved  on  copper  from 
original  paintings  taken  on  the  spot. 

“ Price  six  shillings  per  set  for  the  plain  ones,  or  eight  shil- 
lings coloured.  December  13th,  1 775. 

“ Note.—' The  above  prints  were  drawn  by  Mr.  Earl,  a por- 
trait-painter, and  engraved  by  Mr.  Amos  Doolittle.  Mr.  Earl 
and  Mr.  Doolittle  were  both  members  of  the  Governor’s 
Guard  who  went  on  to  Cambridge,  and  the  scene  of  action, 
soon  after  it  took  place,  under  command  of  Arnold.  It  is  be- 
lieved that  these  prints  are  the  first  historical  engravings  ever 
executed  in  America.*  Mr.  Doolittle  is  living,  and  still  pur- 
sues the  business  of  engraving  in  this  place,  and  from  him  the 
above  information  is  obtained  ; he  also  was  in  the  engagement 
with  the  British  troops  at  the  time  they  entered  New-Haven.” 

In  another  page  we  find  it  stated  that  Mr.  Doolittle,  having 
returned  from  the  scene  of  action  at  Hotchkisstown,  to  attend 
to  a sick  wife,  threw  his  musket  under  the  bed,  and  awaited  the 
arrival  of  the  enemy.  Fortunately  for  him  he  had  a guest  in 
an  English  lady,  who,  when  the  British  troops  arrived,  stepped 
out  and  asked  a guard  for  the  protection  of  the  house,  assert- 
ing that  she  was  an  Englishwoman,  and  had  a son  in  the  Brit- 
ish army.  The  guard  was  granted  ; and  when  the  musket 


+ Tt  will  be  seen  by  the  preceding  biography,  that  Panl  Revere  designed  and 
published  historical  subjects  before  him.  If  Mr.  Earl  painted  these  subjects,  as 
is  expressly  said  in  Mr.  Doolittle’s  advertisement,  where  the  phrase  “original 
paintings’’'  is  used,  we  must  consider  Mr.  Earl  as  our  first  historical  painter  in 
point  of  time.  Revere,  though  he  designed  his  picture  of  the  Massacre,  was  not 
a painter. 


1 56 1 Smithers — Jennings — Dawkins. 

was  discovered,  the  same  protectress  said  that  every  man  was 
obliged  by  law  to  have  arms  in  his  house,  but  Mr.  Doolittle 
was  a friend  of  King  George.  This  saved  him  from  the  prison 
ships  ofNew-York. 

In  an  addition  to  Mr.  Barber’s  work  it  is  stated  that  Mr. 
Doolittle  died  January  31,  1832,  aged  78  years.  There  is  an 
engraving,  (copied  from  one  18  inches  by  J2,  which  was  exe- 
cuted by  Mr.  Amos  Doolittle  of  New-Haven,  in  1775,)  show- 
ing the  town  of  Lexington  and  the  English  troops  commanded 
by  Major  Pitcairn,  firing  on  the  militia.  “ This  print  is  sup- 
posed to  be  the  first  regular  historical  print  ever  published  in 
America.”  This  we  have  shown  to  be  a mistake.  “ Mr.  Doo- 
little’s engraving  was  copied  from  a drawing  by  Mr.  Earl,  a 
portrait-painter.”  “ Mr.  Earl’s  drawing  was  made  on  the 
spot.  The  engraving  was  Mr.  Doolittle’s  first  attempt  at  the 
art,  which  he  pursued  for  more  than  half  a century.” 

SMITHERS— 1773, 

originally  a gun  engraver,  and  employed  in  the  tower  of 
London,  came  to  Philadelphia  in  the  year  1 773.  He  undertook 
all  kinds  of  engraving,  and  probably  stood  high  in  public  opi- 
nion; he  was  the  best,  for  he  stood  alone.  To  him  we  may 
owe  the  caricatures  of  the  times,  some  of  the  wits  of  the  day  as- 
sisting in  the  designs.  He  engraved  the  blocks  for  the  conti- 
nental money,  and  afterwards  imitated  them  for  the  British. 
How  great  must  have  been  his  love  of  his  native  country  ! He 
engraved  a large  ground  plan  of  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  on 
three  plates,  which  Lawson  says,  “I  bought  for  thirty  dollars, 
when  copper  was  scarce,  and  cut  them  up  for  small  plates.” 
He  was  the  master  of  Trenchard. 

JENNINGS— 1774, 

is  the  name  of  an  engraver,  who  is  supposed  to  have  come  from 
England  about  the  beginning  of  the  insurrectionary  move- 
ments in  Boston,  and  retired  again  immediately  to  be  out  of 
the  way  of  trouble.  All  we  know  of  him,  is  from  our  friend 
Buckingham,  who  says  he  engraved  a head  of  Nathaniel  Hurd, 
from  a likeness  painted  by  Copley.  It  was  in  mezzotinto. 
Probably  the  first  mezzotinto  scraped  in  America.  While  in 
this  country  he  resided  altogether  in  Boston. 

HENRY  DAWKINS— 1774, 

was  the  first  engraver  I find  noticed  as  working  in  New-York, 
and  he  was  probably  from  England.  Originally  an  orna- 


Abraham  Godwin . 


157 


menter  of  buttons,  and  other  metallic  substances.  On  his  ar- 
rival in  America,  he  worked  at  any  thing  that  offered,  suiting 
himself  to  the  poverty  of  the  arts  at  the  time. 

My  friend  Alexander  Anderson,  the  first  who  attempted  en- 
graving on  wood  in  America,  and  who  had,  in  fact,  to  invent 
the  art  for  himself,  tells  me  that  he  has  seen  ornamented  shop 
bills,  and  coats  of  arms  for  books,  engraved  by  Dawkins  pre- 
vious to  1775.  Mr.  Anderson  adds,  “ engravings  for  letter 
press,  had  been  executed  on  type-metal  in  various  parts  of  this 
country,  long  before  the  revolution.  Dr.  Franklin,  if  I re- 
collect aright,  cut  the  ornaments  for  his  ‘ Poor  Richard’  alma- 
nacs in  this  way.”  I cannot  venture,  however,  to  include 
Benjamin  Franklin  among  American  engravers.  That  Daw- 
kins would  think  himself  skillful  enough  to  engrave  portraits 
for  the  colonists  I do  not  doubt. 

He  is  probably  the  engraver  of  a very  poor  portrait  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Ogilvie,  deposited  by  G.  C.  Verplanck,  Esq.  with 
the  Historical  Society  of  New-York. 

ABRAHAM  GODWIN— 1783. 

This  gentleman,  now  seventy-one  years  of  age,  was  a sol- 
dier of  the  revolution,  and  is  now  a general  of  the  militia  of  his 
native  state,  New-Jersey.  After  the  war  of  the  revolution, 
having  always  a propensity  to  drawing,  he  devoted  himself  to 
the  arts,  by  choosing  the  profession  of  an  engraver.  Long 
retired  to  his  native  village,  his  painting  and  engraving  has 
been  for  amusement,  and  in  his  old  age,  he  enjoys  the  confi- 
dence and  respect  of  his  fellow-citizens  in  that  town,  of  which 
his  father  had  in  youth  been  one  of  the  earliest  settlers  ; now 
a flourishing  as  well  as  extremely  interesting  place — Pat- 
terson. 

Mr.  Godwin’s  grandfather  was  an  Englishman,  and  settled 
in  New  Jersey,  where  the  father  of  the  engraver  was  born  in 
1724;  in  manhood  he  took  up  his  residence  at  the  falls  of  the 
Passaic;  since  (in  1793)  called  Patterson;  and  there  Abra- 
ham Godwin  was  born  in  July  1763,  and  received  the  same  bap- 
tismal name  as  his  parent,  who  in  his  old  age  engaged  actively 
in  the  cause  of  his  country’s  liberty. 

Mr.  Godwin  was  destined  for  the  law  ; and  in  1776  was 
placed  with  his  brother,  an  attorney  at  Fish-kill,  in  the  state 
of  New-Aork.  The  lawyer,  however,  entered  the  army;  and 
his  pupil,  as  soon  as  possible,  followed  his  example. 

Having  when  quite  a youth  seen  the  operation  of  engraving 
he  was  so  delighted  with  it,  that  he  procured  a rude  graver,  by 
aid  of  a blacksmith,  and  made  the  first  essays  on  the  silver 
plate  of  his  friends. 


158 


Peter  R.  Maverick. 


The  war  being  over,  he  married,  and  then  gave  his  bond  to 
a person  of  the  name  of  Billings  for  two  months  instruction  in 
engraving,  but  soon  found  that  he  could  use  the  graver  better 
than  his  master,  who  did  not  deserve  the  name  of  engraver. 

Mr.  Godwin  was  employed  in  engraving  the  decorations  of 
certificates  for  various  societies,  and  some  of  the  plates  for 
Brown’s  Family  Bible,  published  by  Hodge,  Allen,  and 
Campbell,  in  New-York. 

Retired  to  his  native  place,  Mr.  Godwin  has  served  as  cap- 
tain, judge-advocate,  major,  colonel,  and  lastly,  brigadier- 
general  of  militia,  which  office  he  fills  in  a green  old  age,  to 
the  satisfaction  of  his  countrymen. 

PETER  R.  MAVERICK— 1783. 

Was  originally  a silver-smith.  He  is  sometimes  called  Peter 
Maverick  the  first,  as  his  son  and  grandson,  both  named  Peter, 
have  followed  his  profession.  He  etched  and  engraved  for  many 
years  in  New-York.  In  1787 — 8,  he  taught  me  the  theory  and 
practice  of  etching,  and  in  his  work-shop  I etched  a frontis- 
piece for  a dramatic  trifle  then  published.  He  had  his  press  in 
his  work-shop.  The  plates  in  the  bible  above  mentioned  are 
the  best  specimens  of  his  art ; but,  by  being  the  teacher  of  his 
son  Peter,  and  of  Francis  Kearney,  he  aided  materially  in  the 
progress  of  American  engraving. 

WILLIAM  ROLLINSON— 1789. 

This  worthy  man,  and  very  estimable  citizen  is  a native  of 
England,  born  in  the  year  1760.  He  was  in  youth  brought 
up  to  the  business  of  chaser  of  fancy  buttons,  and  came  to  New 
York  with  a view  of  pursuingthe  same,  but  soon  found  that  little 
or  nothing  of  the  kind  was  practised  or  sought  after  here.  He 
had  not  long  after  his  arrival,  some  work  in  the  w ay  of  his 
original  employment,  the  remembrance  of  which  gratifies  the 
sturdy  old  gentleman  to  this  day.  General  Knox,  first  secre- 
tary of  war,  under  the  federal  government,  employed  Mr.  Rol- 
linson  to  chase  the  arms  of  the  United  States  upon  a set  of 
gilt  buttons  for  the  coat  w hich  was  worn  by  General  Washing- 
ton, on  the  memorable  day  of  his  inauguration  as  president. 

Soon  after,  General  Knox  called  to  make  payment,  but  the 
young  Englishman  had  caught  the  spirit  of  the  country  of  his 
choice,  and  would  receive  no  compensation;  declaring  that  he 
was  more  than  paid  by  having  had  the  honour  of  working  for 
such  a man  on  such  an  occasion.  Shortly  after,  the  chiefs  of 
the  Creek  Indians,  with  McGillevray  at  their  head,  arrived  at 
New-York,  then  the  seat  of  the  federal  government,  and  silver 
arm-bands,  and  medals  were  required  for  these  sons  of  the 


William  Rollinson. 


159 


forest,  as  presents  from  the  United  States.  These  decorations 
required  ornamenting,  and  General  Knox  remunerated  the 
button-chaser,  by  giving  him  many  of  them  to  engrave. 

Mr.  Rollinson  found  employment  in  working  for  silver- 
smiths, until  1791,  when  he  made  his  first  attempt  at  copper- 
plate engraving,  without  any  previous  knowledge  of  the  pro- 
fession, or  having  even  seen  an  engraver  at  work.  This  essay 
was  a small  profile  portrait  of  General  Washington  done  in  the 
stippling  manner. 

Through  the  friendship  of  Messrs.  Elias  Hicks  and  John  C. 
Ludlow,  Mr.  Rollinson  was  recommended  to  the  publishers  of 
Brown’s  Family  Bible,  mentioned  above,  for  which  work  he  en- 
graved several  plates,  and  found  employment  with  the  few  book 
publishers  of  that  day.  This  practice  had  given  Mr.  Rollin- 
son  facility  with  the  graver,  and  about  this  time,  i.  e.  1800, 
Mr.  Archibald  Robertson  having  painted  a portrait  of  Gene- 
ral Alexander  Hamilton,  Mr.  Rollinson  boldly  undertook  an 
engraving  from  it,  18  inches  by  14;  he  had  no  knowledge  of 
rebiting  and  other  processes  used  by  those  brought  up  to  the 
profession,  but  had  perseverance  and  ingenuity  to  surmount  all 
difficulties,  and  finally  invented  a method  of  making  a back- 
ground by  means  of  a rolette  inserted  in  a ruling  machine. 
When  he  commenced  this  engraving,  it  was  intended  to  be 
done  at  leisure  hours,  and  for  practice,  but  when  the  plate  was 
about  half  done,  General  Hamilton  lost  his  life  in  a duel  with 
Colonel  Burr.  The  friends  of  Hamilton  were  solicitous  for  a 
print  of  him,  and  the  engraver  was  urged  to  finish  the  plate 
with  all  expedition.  An  impression  being  taken  from  the  en- 
graving in  its  unfinished  state,  and  the  likeness  acknowledged, 
the  work  was  completed,  and  published  by  Messrs.  Rollinson 
and  Robertson,  in  1805,  and  met  with  a good  sale. 

In  1812,  Mr.  Rollinson  invented  a machine  to  rule  waved 
lines,  for  engraving  margins  to  bank  notes.  Mr.  W.  S. 
Leney,  an  English  artist  from  London,  (a  good  stipple  engra- 
ver,) joined  Air.  Rollinson  in  producing  a specimen  note,  which 
being  approved,  produced  many  orders  from  different  parts  of 
the  United  States.  This  invention  of  Mr.  Rollinson  was  a 
great  improvement  in  bank  note  engraving,  and  caused  a great 
sensation  among  engravers  at  the  time.  Mr.  Rollinson,  now 
in  the  74th  year  of  his  age  is  full  of  life  and  strength,  and  con- 
tinues to  work  with  unabated  ardour  and  improved  skill.  In 
the  70th  year  of  his  age,  he  executed  a vignette  for  the  Messrs. 
Carvils,  for  an  edition  of  Horace,  by  professor  Anthon,  which 
is  a proof  of  increasing  knowledge  in  the  art  he  professes.  At 
the  age  of  74,  his  portrait  has  been  painted  by  Mr.  Agate,  an 
excellent  likeness,  which  might  indicate  a man  of  fifty. 


160 


The  three  Parissiens . 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  three  Parissiens— L.  Kilbrunn— Abraham  Delanoy,  junr.— Gilbert  Stuart’s 
father  and  the  snuff-mill—  Cosmo  Alexander— Gilbert  carried  to  Scotland- 
Hard  usage  and  return— His  taste  for  music— Goes  to  London— Various 
adventures — Introduced  to  Mr.  West— Desultory  anecdotes. 

PARISSIENS. 

I remember  well  three  generations  of  Parissiens  or  Parisans, 
all  professing  to  be  painters,  and  all  residing  in  New-York. 
The  first  came  from  France,  and  was  literally,  as  seen  by  me, 
“ a little  old  Frenchman.”  This  was  Otto  Parissien,  or  Pa- 
rissien  the  first.  The  phrase  “ little  old  Frenchman”  is  so 
common  in  English  books,  that  we  of  America  naturalize  it, 
with  a thousand  prejudices  derived  from  the  same  source.  But 
Parissien  the  first  was  a model  of  the  idea . He  was  a silver- 
smith, and  kept  a shop  of  that  precious  ware  ; he  worked  or- 
naments in  hair  ; and  he  made  monstrous  miniature  pictures. 
Genius  is  hereditary,  let  democrats  say  what  they  will,  at  least 
the  genius  of  mediocrity — and  yet  the  three  Parissiens  im- 
proved in  regular  gradation  on  the  soil  of  America.  The  son 
of  the  “ little  old  Frenchman”  became  an  American  almost  of 
ordinary  size,  and  painted  miniatures  with  a little  resemblance 
to  human  nature,  at  the  same  time  working  in  hair  and  sil- 
ver. This  was  Parissien  the  second.  He  died,  as  is  the  cus- 
tom in  all  countries,  and  was  succeeded  by  Parissien  the  third, 
who  arrived  at  the  full  herght  of  ordinary  Americans,  and  re- 
nouncing the  hair-work  and  the  silver  tea-pots  and  milk-jugs, 
devoted  himself  to  drawing  and  painting;  but  notwithstand- 
ing that  he  attained  to  cleverness  in  drawing  with  chalks,  his 
painting,  though  beyond  comparison  better  than  his  predeces- 
sors, still  bore  the  family  likeness.  He  even  went  so  far  as 
to  paint  a full  length  of  my  old  friend  Dr.  Mitchill,  which  was 
exhibited  in  the  gallery  of  the  American  Academy  ofFine  Arts 
in  the  old  alms  house,  and  it  was  generally  admired  for  its 
rigid  portliness  and  inveterate  pertinacity  of  attitude.  But 
the  hereditary  propensity  to  mingle  employments  descended 
to  Parissien  the  third,  with  the  hereditary  mediocrity  of  the 
family.  He  mixed  the  business  of  money-broker  with  his 
painting,  and  both  failed.  He  died  in  the  prime  of  life,  and 
the  race  of  Parissiens  became  extinct. 


L Kilbrunn  and  Abraham  Delanoy,  jun< 


1GI 


L.  KILBRUNN— 1772. 

Who  this  gentleman  was,  I know  not,  but  presume  he  was 
from  England.  He  painted  portraits  in  New-York  in  1761, 
although  I place  him  later,  as  supposing  he  may  have  conti- 
nued to  1772. 

In  the  Family  mansion  of  James  Beekman,  Esq.  among  many 
portraits  of  his  ancestors,  are  two  by  L.  Kilbrunn,  dated  1761, 
half-lengths,  size  of  life,  one  of  Dr.  William  Beekman,  a gra- 
duate of  Leyden,  and  who  practised  physic,  in  New-York  ; 
the  other  of  his  wife.  The  Doctor’s  head  is  well  painted,  full 
of  nature,  the  colours  softened  skilfully,  and  the  picture  in 
good  preservation  ; the  other  has  merit,  but  is  not  so  good — 
all  the  hands  are  bad.  I owe  the  discovery  of  this  artist  to  my 
friend  Doctor  Francis. 

ABRAHAM  DELANOY,  Jun.— 1772. 

Born  in  New-York,  probably  in  1740.  He  visited  Eng- 
land about  1766,  and  was  instructed  for  a short  time  by  B. 
West.  Mr.  Depeyster,  son  in  law  of  Mr.  John  Beekman, 
has  a head  of  West,  painted  by  Delanoy  at  this  period; 
it  is  marked,  “ Portrait  of  Benjamin  West,  the  celebra- 
ted limner  of  Philadelphia,  painted  by  his  friend  Abraham 
Delanoy,  junior,  limner.”  Mr.  John  Beekman  has  several 
family  portraits  painted  by  Delanoy,  in  1767:  and  Mr. 
James  Beekman  others,  executed  near  the  same  period. — 
I remember  Delanoy  from  1780  to  1783,  in  “the  sear  and 
yellow  leaf”  both  of  life  and  fortune.  He  was  consumptive, 
poor,  and  his  only  employment  sign-painting.  He  told  me 
of  his  visit  to  London,  and  showed  a picture  he  then  copied 
from  one  of  Mr.  West’s,  it  was  “ Cupid  complaining  to 
his  mother  of  a sting  from  a bee.”  I saw  then  his  own  por- 
trait, and  those  of  his  wife  and  children,  by  himself.  I painted 
a likeness  of  Admiral  Hood,  from  recollection,  for  him  on  a 
sign — my  first  production  in  oil. 

Delanoy  was  a man  of  mild  manners,  awkward  address,  and 
unprepossessing  appearance.  I presume  he  died  about  1786. 

GILBERT  C.  STUART— 1773. 

Having  arrived  at  that  period  which  is  made  memorable  in 
the  history  of  American  arts,  by  the  commencement  of  the 
career  in  portrait-painting  of  one  who  has  yet  no  rival,  we, 
in  accordance  with  our  plan,  give  here  a biographical  notice  of 
Gilbert  Charles  Stuart,  born  in  1754. 

As  M.  Stuart  dropped  the  middle  name  of  “ Charles,”  wc 
21 


162 


Gilbert  C.  Stuart. 


will  give  our  reasons  for  restoring  it  to  him.  He  was  thus 
baptized,  and  it  marks  the  attachment  of  his  father  to  the  worth- 
less dynasty  so  long  adhered  to  by  the  Scotch.  He  bore  the 
three  names  until  after  manhood.  Dr.  Waterhouse,  his  friend 
and  schoolfellow,  in  a letter  before  us,  dated  27th  of  May, 
1833,  says,  “ I have  cut  from  one  of  Stuart’s  letters  his  signa- 
ture of  G.  C.  Stuart,  i.  e.  Gilbert  Charles  Stuart.  I have 
some  doubt  whether  his  widow  and  children  ever  knew  that  he 
had  the  middle  name  of  Charles.”  When  writing  his  name  on 
his  own  portrait,  in  1778,  he  omitted  the  “ C.”  The  inscrip- 
tion is  “G.  Stuart,  Pictor,  se  ipso  pinxit,  A.  D.  1778,  eetatis 
sua  24.” 

His  name  was  frequently  written  and  printed  “ Stewart ;” 
and  Heath,  on  the  pirated  engraving  from  the  artist’s  celebra- 
ted portrait  of  Washington,  calls  him  “ Gabriel.”  Stuart 
jestingly  said,  “ men  will  make  an  angel  of  me  in  spite  of 
myself.” 

The  above  quoted  inscription  from  his  portrait,  is  the  only 
authority  we  have  for  the  time  of  his  birth.  That  fixes  it  in 
1754.  This  picture  is  in  the  possession  of  Doctor  Benjamin 
Waterhouse,  and  is  extremely  valuable  both  as  the  only  por- 
trait he  ever  painted  of  himself,  and  as  a monument  of  his  early 
skill. 

The  name  of  Stuart  will  long  be  dear  to  those  who  had  the 
pleasure  of  his  intimacy.  His  colloquial  powers  were  of  the 
first  order,  and  made  him  the  delight  of  all  who  were  thrown  in 
his  way ; whether  exercised  to  draw  forth  character  and  ex- 
pression from  his  sitters,  or  in  the  quiet  of  a tete-a-tete , or  to 
“ set  the  table  in  a roar,”  while  the  wine  circulated,  as  was 
but  too  much  the  custom  of  the  time  and  the  man. 

Still  dearer  is  the  name  of  Stuart  to  every  American  artist, 
many  of  whom  remember  with  gratitude  the  lessons  derived 
from  his  conversation  and  practice,  and  all  feel  the  influence 
of  that  instruction  which  is  derived  from  studying  his  works. 

Although  our  greatest  portrait-painter  is  but  recently  de- 
ceased, already  the  place  of  his  nativity  is  disputed,  and  contend- 
ing towns  claim  the  honour  of  producing  this  extraordinary 
genius ; we  will  relate  his  own  testimony  on  the  subject,  al- 
though no  man  can  be  a competent  witness  in  the  case. 

A few  years  before  his  death,  two  artists  of  Philadelphia 
visited  Mr.  Stuart  at  his  residence  in  Boston.  These  gentle- 
men, Messrs.  Longacre  and  Neagle,  had  made  the  journey  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  seeing  and  deriving  instruction  from  the 
veteran.  While  sitting  with  him  on  one  occasion,  Mr.  Neagle 
asked  him  for  a pinch  of  snuff  from  his  ample  box,  out  of  which 


1(53 


The  snuff-mill. 

he  was  profusely  supplying1  his  own  nostrils.  “ I will  give  it  to 
you,”  said  Stuart,  “ but  I advise  you  not  to  take  it.  Snufl-ta- 
king  is  a pernicious,  vile,  dirty  habit,  and,  like  all  bad  habits,  to 
be  carefully  avoided.”  u Your  practice  contradicts  your  pre- 
cept, Mr.  Stuart.”  “ Sir,  / can’t  help  it.  Shall  l tell  you  a 
story?  You  were  neither  of  you  ever  in  England — so  I must 
describe  an  English  stage-coach  of  my  time.  It  was  a large 
vehicle  of  the  coach  kind,  with  a railing  around  the  top  to 
secure  outside  passengers,  and  a basket  behind  for  baggage, 
and  such  travellers  as  could  not  be  elsewhere  accommodated. 
In  such  a carriage,  full  within,  loaded  on  the  top,  and  an  ad- 
ditional unfortunate  stowed  with  the  stuff  in  the  basket,  I hap- 
pened to  be  travelling  in  a dark  night,  when  coachee  contrived 
to  overturn  us  all — or,  as  they  say  in  New-York,  dump  us— 
in  a ditch.  We  scrambled  up,  felt  our  legs  and  arms  to  be  con- 
vinced that  they  were  not  broken,  and  finding,  on  examination, 
that  inside  and  outside  passengers  were  tolerably  whole,  (on 
the  whole,)  some  one  thought  of  the  poor  devil  who  was  shut 
up  with  the  baggage  in  the  basket.  He  was  found  apparently 
senseless,  and  his  neck  twisted  awry.  One  of  the  passengers, 
who  had  heard  that  any  dislocation  might  be  remedied,  if 
promptly  attended  to,  seized  on  the  corpse,  with  a determina- 
tion to  untwist  the  man’s  neck,  and  set  his  head  straight  on 
his  shoulders.  Accordingly,  with  an  iron  grasp  he  clutched 
him  by  the  head,  and  began  pulling  and  twisting  by  main 
force.  He  appeared  to  have  succeeded  miraculously  in  re- 
storing life ; for  the  dead  man  no  sooner  experienced  the  first 
wrench,  than  he  roared  vociferously,  * Let  me  alone ! let  me 
alone!  I’m  not  hurt! — I was  born  so  !’  Gentlemen,”  added 
Stuart,  “I  was  born  so;”  and,  taking  an  enormous  pinch  of 
snuff,  “ I was  born  in  a snuff-mill.” 

A plain  statement,  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  his  friend 
Doctor  Waterhouse,  will  account  for  the  painter’s  being  born 
in  the  state  of  Rhode-Island,  and  explain  his  assertion  of 
being  born  in  a snuff-mill. 

Between  the  years  1746  and  ’50,  there  came  over  from 
Great  Britain,  to  these  colonies,  a number  of  Scotch  gentle- 
men, who  had  not  the  appearance  of  what  is  generally  under- 
stood by  the  term  emigrant,  nor  yet  were  they  merchants  nor 
seemed  to  be  men  of  fortune.  The}7  came  not  in  companies, 
but  dropped  in  quietly,  one  after  the  other.  Their  unassu- 
ming appearance,  retired  habits,  bordering  on  the  reserve, 
seemed  to  place  them  above  the  common  class  of  British 
travellers.  Their  mode  of  life  was  snug,  discreet  and  respec- 
table, yet  clannish.  Some  settled  in  Philadelphia,  some  in 
Perth-Amboy,  some  in  New-York,  but  a greater  proportion 


104 


The  father  and  mother  of  Stuart. 

sat  down  at  that  pleasant  and  healthy  spot  Rhode-Island, 
called  by  Callender,  its  first  historiographer,  “ The  garden 
of  America,”  afterwards  less  favourably  known  as  the  great 
slave-market  for  the  Southern  colonies. 

We  have  seen,  in  our  notice  of  Smybert,  that  that  this  Gar- 
den of  America  was  the  residence  of  Dean  Berkeley,  the  friend 
of  Oglethorpe,  and  that  there  he  composed  his  “ Minute 
Philosopher.”  “ The  rural  descriptions  which  frequently  occur 
in  it;”  the  remark  is  from  G.  C.  Verplanck  ; “ are,  it  is  said, 
exquisite  pictures  of  those  delightful  landscapes,  which  pre- 
sented themselves  to  his  eye  at  the  time  he  was  writing.” 

Several  of  these  Scotch  emigrants  or  visiters,  were  profes- 
sional men  ; among  them  was  Dr.  Thomas  Moffat,  a learned 
physician  of  the  Boerhaavean  school,  but  however  learned,  his 
dress  and  manners  were  so  illsuited  to  the  plainness,  in  both,  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Rhode-Island,  who  were  principally  qua- 
kers,  that  he  could  not  make  his  way  among  them  as  a 
practitioner,  and  therefore,  he  looked  round  for  some  other 
mode  of  genteel  subsistence,  and  he  lit  upon  that  of  cultivating 
tobacco,  and  making  snuff,  to  supply  the  place  of  the  great 
quantity  that  was  every  year  imported  from  Glasgow ; but  he 
could  find  no  man  in  the  country  who  he  thought  was  able  to 
make  him  a snuff  mill.  He  therefore  wrote  to  Scotland  and 
obtained  a competent  mill-wright,  by  the  name  of  Gilbert 
Stuart. 

Doctor  Moffat  selected  for  his  mill-seat,  a proper  stream  in 
that  part  of  the  colony  of  Rhode-Island  and  Providence  plan- 
tations, which  bore  and  still  bears  the  Indian  name  of  Narra- 
ganset,  once  occupied  by  the  warlike  tribe  of  the  Pequots, 
made  familiar  to  us  by  the  intensely  interesting  romance  of 
our  great  novelist,  James  Fennimore  Cooper,  under  the  title  of 
“ The  last  of  the  Mohegans.” 

There  Gilbert  Stuart,  the  father  of  the  great  painter,  erected 
the  first  snuff-mill  in  New  England,  and  manufactured  that 
strange  article  of  luxury.  He  soon  after  built  a house  and 
married  a very  handsome  woman,  daughter  of  a substantial 
yeoman,  the  cultivator  of  his  own  soil,  by  name  Anthony. 
Of  this  happy  couple  was.  born  Gilbert  Charles  Stuart.  The 
middle  name,  indicative  of  the  jacobite  principles  of  his  father, 
was  early  dropped  by  the  son,  and  never  used  in  his  days  of 
notoriety — indeed,  but  for  the  signatures  of  letters  addressed 
by  him  to  his  friend  Waterhouse,  in  youth,  we  should  have  no 
evidence  that  he  ever  bore  more  than  the  famous  name  of 
Gilbert  Stuart.  The  father  of  the  painter  was  remarkable  for 
his  ingenuity,  and  his  quiet,  inoffensive  life.  His  mother  was 


165 


The  muff -mill  abandoned. 

a well-informed  woman,  and  capable  of  instructing  her  son. 
She  had  three  children:  James,  Ann,  and  Gilbert.  James 
died  when  yet  a child  ; Ann  married,  and  is  the  mother  of 
Gilbert  Stuart  Newton. 

Doctor  Benjamin  Waterhouse,  in  a manuscript  memoir  be- 
fore us,  says,  that  he  “ from  several  people  imbibed  the  idea 
that  the  child  Gilbert  betrayed  very  early  signs  of  genius,  and 
the  only  reason  for  doubting  it  is  the  fact  that  his  talents  con- 
tinued bright  over  three  score  years  and  ten  : witness  his  por- 
trait of  the  venerable  President  Adams,  and  that  of  his  son 
John  Quincy  Adams,  late  President  of  these  United  States,  in 
both  of  which  Mr.  Stuart  far  exceeded  any  other  of  his  por- 
traits. Vandyke  himself  might  have  been  proud  of  either, 
especially  that  of  the  elder  Adams.”  We  continue  to  quote 
from  Dr.  Waterhouse. 

“ The  manufactory  of  snuff  from  New-England  tobacco 
succeeded,  and  was  as  good  as  that  imported  from  Glasgow, 
but  the  scheme  for  supplying  the  colonies  with  that  indispen- 
sable article  failed,  for  want  of  glass  bottles  to  contain  it ; and 
for  which  the  learned  Doctor  Moffat  substituted  beeves’  blad- 
ders, which  effectually  destroyed  the  business,  and  compelled 
Mr.  Gilbert  Stuart  to  remove  from  Narraganset  to  the  town 
of  Newport,  the  capital  of  the  colony  of  Rhode-Island.” 

If  this  is  the  origin  of  the  custom  of  packing  snuff  in  blad- 
ders, (a  custom,  which,  though  it  did  not  succeed  at  Narra- 
ganset, is  nevertheless  continued  elsewhere  to  the  present 
time,)  our  pages  will  be  valued  hereafter  for  matter  relevant 
to  more  arts  than  those  called  fine  ; and  we  may  hope  to  have 
our  name  descending  to  posterity  with  those  of  Waterhouse 
and  Moffat,  preserved  in  a bladder  of  New-England  snuff. 

“ There,”  continues  the  doctor,  “ the  writer  of  this  memoir 
first  became  attached  to  the  school-boy  Gilbert  Stuart.”  The 
Doctor  was  about  the  same  age,  and  says  that  Stuart  was  “ a 
very  capable,  self-willed  boy,  who,  perhaps  on  that  account, 
was  indulged  in  every  thing,  being  an  only  son  ; handsome 
and  forward,  and  habituated  at  home  to  have  his  own  way  in 
every  thing,  with  little  or  no  control  from  the  easy,  good-na- 
tured father.  He  was  about  thirteen  years  old  when  he  began 
to  copy  pictures,”  1767,  “ and  at  length  attempted  likenesses 
in' black  lead,  in  which  he  succeeded,”  so  far  as  to  discourage 
the  attempts  of  his  school-fellow,  Waterhouse. 

“ About  the  year  1772,”  the  Dr.  proceeds,  “a  Scotch  gen- 
tleman, named  Cosmo  Alexander,  between  50  and  60  years  of 
age,  arrived  at  Newport ; of  delicate  health  and  prepossessing 
manners,  apparently  above  the  mere  trade  of  a painter,  he  pro- 


106  Stuart’s  first  visit  to  Europe  and  return . 

bably  travelled  for  the  benefit  of  his  country  and  his  own  health. 
As  the  political  sky  was  at  that  time  overcast  with  many  ap- 
pearances of  a storm,  our  countrymen  noticed  several  genteel 
travellers  from  Britain,  who  seemed  to  be  gentlemen  of  leisure 
and  observation,  and  mostly  Scotchmen.”  (Does  the  Doctor 
mean  to  insinuate  that  these  Scotch  gentlemen,  and  among 
them  Alexander,  who  was  “ above  the  mere  trade  of  a painter” 
and  “ travelled  for  the  benefit  of  his  country,”  were  spies  ?) 
“ Mr.  Alexander  associated  almost  exclusively  with  the  gentle- 
men from  Scotland,  and  was  said  by  them  to  paint  for  his 
amusement.”  To  paint  for  money  would  be  degradation: — 
not  so  to  write — to  plead — to  physic,  or  to  kill.  “ Be  that  as 
it  may,  he  soon  opened  a painting  room,  well  provided  with 
cameras  and  optical  glasses  for  taking  prospective  views.  He 
soon  put  upon  canvas  the  Hunters,  the  Keiths,  the  Fergu- 
sons, the  Grants  and  the  Hamiltons,  and  this  interest  led  to 
the  recommendation  of  the  youth  Gilbert  Stuart,  to  the  notice 
and  patronage  of  Mr.  Alexander,  who,  being  pleased  with  his 
talents,  gave  him  lessons  in  the  grammar  of  the  art — I mean 
drawing — and  the  groundwork  of  the  palette.  After  spend- 
ing the  summer  in  Rhode-Island,  he  went  to  South  Carolina, 
and  thence  to  Scotland,  taking  young  Stuart  with  him.  Mr. 
Alexander  died  not  long  after  his  arrival  at  Edinburgh,  leav- 
ing his  pupil  to  the  care  of  Sir  George  Chambers,  who,  it 
seems,  did  not  long  survive  his  friend  Alexander.  After  these 
sad  disappointments  our  young  artist  fell  into  the  hands  of — 
I know  not  whom,  nor  do  I regret  never  hearing  him  named, 
as  he  treated  Stuart  harshly,  and  put  him  on  board  a collier, 
bound  to  Nova  Scotia,  whence  he  got  on,  not  without  suffer- 
ing, to  Rhode-Island.  What  his  treatment  was  I never  could 
learn  ; I only  know  that  it  required  a few  weeks  to  equip  him 
with  suitable  clothing  to  appear  in  the  streets,  or  to  allow  any 
one  of  his  former  friends,  save  the  writer,  to  know  of  his  return 
home.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  it  was  such  as  neither  Gilbert 
Stuart,  father,  or  son,  ever  thought  proper  to  mention.  It  is 
probable  the  youth  worked  for  his  passage  to  America.” 

If  Stuart  went  on  this  first  unfortunate  voyage  to  Europe 
with  Alexander,  in  the  winter  of  1772,  he  was  of  course  18 
years  of  age,  and  we  cannot  well  assign  less  than  a year  for 
the  events  which  took  place  before  he  arrived  again  at  New- 
port. 

It  appears  that  he  soon  resumed  his  study  of  drawing  and 
practice  of  painting.  Waterhouse  says,  “Mr.  Stuart  was  fully 
aware  of  the  great  importance  of  the  art  of  drawing  with  ana- 
tomical exactness,  and  took  vast  pains  to  attain  it.”  The  Doc- 


167 


C ommcnccs  portrait-painting. 

tor,  who  was  likewise  making  efforts  to  draw,  in  conjunction 
with  Stuart,  prevailed  on  a “strong  muscled  blacksmith,”  for 
half  a dollar  an  evening,  to  exhibit  his  person  for  their  study. 

Stuart  now  commenced  portrait-painter  in  form.  His  mo- 
ther’s brother,  Mr.  Joseph  Anthony,  was  then  a thriving  mer- 
chant in  Philadelphia.  He  is  well  known  in  that  city,  and  has 
been  since  the  days  of  banking,  the  president  of  one  of  those 
institutions.  This  gentleman,  visiting  his  native  colony  and 
his  sister,  was  struck  with  admiration  on  entering  the  painting 
room  of  his  nephew,  by  seeing  a likeness  of  his  mother,  (the 
young  painter’s  grandmother,)  who  died  when  Gilbert  was  a 
boy  of  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age.  He  was  now  about  nine- 
teen, and  had  within  the  last  year  been  buffeted  with  no  gentle 
hands  from  the  quiet  abode  of  his  parents  in  the  north,  to  the 
southern  colony  of  Carolina,  thence  to  Scotland,  to  Nova 
Scotia  in  a collier,  and  through  privations  and  hardships  to 
Newport  again.  But  the  image  of  his  mother’s  parent,  who 
had  probably  caressed  him  with  a grandmother’s  fondness 
when  a child,  had  been  present  with  him  in  his  wanderings, 
and  one  of  the  first  efforts  of  his  incipient  art  was  to  perpetuate 
that  image  on  his  canvas.  This  faculty,  the  result  of  strong 
observation  on  a strong  mind,  was  one  of  the  distinguishing 
characteristics  of  Mr.  Stuart,  and  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
mention  extraordinary  proofs  of  it  in  the  sequel. 

The  effect  which  this  testimony  of  the  young  man’s  affection 
for  his  parent,  and  of  his  skill  as  a painter,  was  such  as  to  in- 
terest Mr.  Anthony  warmly  in  his  behalf.  “ He  was  proud,” 
says  Waterhouse,  “of  patronizing  his  ingenious  nephew,  after 
a circumstance  which  greatly  surprised  and  affected”  him. 
Mr.  Anthony  employed  the  young  painter  to  make  portraits  of 
himself,  his  wife,  and  two  children.  “ Another  gentleman,” 
Doctor  Waterhouse  says  in  continuation,  “of  opulence,  follow- 
ed his  (Anthony’s)  example,  and  several  others  sat  for  their 
single  portraits,  so  that  our  aspiring  artist  had  as  much  busi- 
ness as  he  could  turn  his  hands  to ; and  the  buoyancy  of  his 
spirits  kept  pace  with  his  good  fortune.  He  never  had,  how- 
ever, that  evenness  of  spirits  which  marked  and  dignified  the 
characters  of  our  countrymen  Benjamin  West  and  John  Single- 
ton  Copley.  With  Stuart  it  was  either  high  tide  or  low  tide. 
In  London  he  would  sometimes  lay  a bed  for  weeks,  waiting 
for  the  tide  to  lead  him  on  to  fortune.  While  Copley  and 
West  had  the  industry  of  ants  before  they  attained  the  treasure 
of  bees.  There  was  a caprice  in  Mr.  Stuart’s  character  as  pro- 
voking to  his  best  friends  and  nearest  connexions,  as  it  was 
unaccountable  to  the  public.  A committee  of  the  Redwood 


168 


Stuart  a musician. 


library,  of  Newport,  waited  upon  him  to  (engage  him  to)  paint 
a full-length  portrait  of  its  generous  founder,  Abraham  Red- 
wood, then  living  next  door  to  the  painter,  for  which  theyoung 
artist  would  have  had  a generous  reward,  but  all  that  his  pa- 
rents and  the  rest  of  his  friends  could  say,  he  declined  it  in  sul- 
len silence,  and  by  so  doing  turned  the  popular  tide  in  some 
degree  against  him.  Whether  any  of  the  committee  bargained 
with  him  in  the  spirit  and  style  of  a mechanic,  I never  knew; 
but  it  is  certain  he  never  would  hear  the  subject  mentioned  if 
he  could  check  it.  This  occurrence  cooled  the  zeal  of  many 
of  his  friends.” 

The  doctor’s  assertion,  that  he  44  would  have  had  a generous 
reward,”  is  gratuitous,  as  is  proved  by  his  suggestion,  that  44  one 
of  the  committee”  (or  perhaps  the  whole  committee)  might 
have  44  bargained  with  him  as  with  a mechanic.”  Or  might 
not  Stuart,  a youth  of  J 9 or  20,  feel  that  he  could  not  paint 
a full  length,  for  a public  place  especially.  Might  he  not 
have  declined  to  do  that,  the  attempt  at  which  would  perplex, 
and  the  result  disgrace  ? If  such  were  his  motives,  he  was  wise 
to  preserve  silence — for  his  friends  would  not  have  understood 
them. 

Ardent  as  Stuart’s  love  of  painting  was,  we  have  the  autho- 
rity of  his  early  friend  for  saying  that  music  divided  his  affec- 
tions so  equally  with  her  sister,  that  it  was  difficult  to  say 
which  was  44  the  ruling  passion.” 

44  Stuart,”  says  the  doctor,  44  became  enamoured  with  music, 
in  which  he  made  remarkable  progress  without  any  other 
master  than  his  own  superior  genius.”  44 1 was  willing  to 
believe  that  he  was  aufait  in  the  science  of  sweet  sounds,  but 
1 did  not  always  feel  them  so  sweetly  as  he  did.” 

The  young  painter  not  only  became  a performer  on  various 
instruments,  but  ventured  likewise  to  compose.  The  biogra- 
pher of  this  early  portion  of  his  life,  says,  44  once  he  attempted 
to  enrapture  me,  by  a newly  studied  classical  composition.  I 
exerted  all  the  kind  attention  I could  muster  up  for  the  occa- 
sion, until  his  sharp  eye  detected  by  my  physiognomy,  that  I 
did  not  much  relish  it.  He  coloured,  sprang  up  in  a rage,  and 
striding  back  and  forth  the  floor,  vociferated,  44  you  have  no 
more  taste  for  music,  than  a jack-ass ! and  it  is  all  owing  to 
your  stupid  quaker  education.’  To  which  I replied,  4 ’tis  very 
likely,  Gibby,  and  that  education  has  led  me  to  relish  silence 
more  than  all  the  passionate  noise  uttered  from  instrumental  or 
vocal  organs.1  Stuart’s  Teply  to  this,  with  a laugh,  was,  4 a 
good  hit,  Ben ! — but  really  1 wish  you  had  more  taste  for 
music.’  4 1 wish  so  too,  Stuart,’  said  his  friend,  4 but  I am  de- 


169 


Stuart  goes  to  London. 

termined  not  to  admire  more  in  a picture  than  what  I actually 
see  within  its  frame;  nor  affect  raptures  for  music  I do  not 
feel.’  ” 

“ On  going  to  England,”  continues  the  Doctor,  “ in  the 
beginning  of  March,  1775,  I left  Gilbert  Stuart,  according  to 
his  own  account,  in  a manner  disconsolate,  for,  beside  me,  he 
had  no  associate  with  whom  he  could  expatiate  and  dispute 
upon  painting  and  music.” 

Stuart,  probably  finding  that  his  business  of  portrait-paint- 
ing failed  in  consequence  of  the  preparations  for  war,  then 
making  in  the  colonies,  found  means  to  follow  his  friend 
Waterhouse.  We  have  been  told  that  he  was  assisted  by  some 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Newport.  It  will  be  seen  that  he  did  not 
go  from  home  well  provided,  except  with  talent,  to  meet  the 
expenses  incident  to  a residence  in  the  English  metropolis. 
He  has  told  the  writer  that  he  embarked  from  the  port  of  Nor- 
folk, in  Virginia,  with  the  localities  of  which  place,  and  with  its 
older  inhabitants,  he  was  well  acquainted.  He  went  thither 
from  the  port  of  Boston,  after  hostilities  had  commenced 
between  the  veterans  of  England  and  the  Yankee  yeomen. 
Doctor  Waterhouse  says,  “Mr.  Stuart  was  shut  up  in  Boston, 
when  the  first  blood  was  spilt  at  Lexington,  in  our  contest 
with  Great  Britain,  April  the  19th,  1775,  and  escaped  from  it 
about  ten  days  before  the  Battle  of  Bunker-hill,  and  arrived 
in  London  the  latter  end  of  November  following,  when  he 
found  I wras  gone  to  Edinburgh,  and  he  without  an  acquaint- 
ance.” From  this  we  may  infer  that  Stuart  relied  upon  Water- 
house  principally  for  introduction,  and  perhaps  support,  until 
he  could  obtain  employment.  As  he  escaped  from  the  town  of 
Boston  on  the  7th  of  June,  1775,  ten  days  before  the  fight  on 
Breed’s  hill,  and  reached  London  the  last  of  November,  even 
the  tardy  movement  of  ships  over  the  Atlantic  at  that  period, 
allows  us  to  suppose  that  the  young  man  past  some  weeks  at 
Norfolk. 

Mr.  Trumbull,  who  was  the  fellow-student  of  Stuart,  under 
West,  and  in  some  sort,  the  pupil  of  Stuart,  who  had  preceded 
him  in  the  art,  and  ever  far  outstripped  him  in  portraiture,  gave 
the  following  anecdote  to  Mr.  James  Herring,  which  we  copy 
from  his  manuscript. 

“Trumbull  was  told  by  the  lady  of  a British  officer,  that 
the  night  before  he  (Stuart)  left  Newport,  he  spent  most  part 
of  the  night  under  the  window  of  a friend  of  hers,  playing  on 
the  flute,  (he  played  very  well  on  the  flute,  and  we  spent  many 
an  evening  together  playing  ducts — he  took  lessons  too  in 

22 


170 


Stuart  organist  to  a church. 

London  of  a German,  who  belonged  to  the  king’s  band. — T. 
She  afterwards  married  a British  officer.” 

His  friend  Waterhouse  continues,  “When  I returned  from 
Edinburgh  to  London  in  the  summer  of  1776,  I found  Mr. 
Stuart  in  lodging  in  York-buildings,  with  but  one  picture  on 
his  easel,  mid  that  was  a family  group  for  Mr.  Alexander  Grant, 
a Scotch  gentleman  to  whom  he  brought  letters,  and  who  had 
paid  him  for  it  in  advance.  It  remained  long  in  his  lodgings, 
and  I am  not  sure  that  it  ever  was  finished.”  Not  being  sure — 
we  ought  to  conclude  that  it  was  finished  and  delivered  to  the 
owner. 

During  this  period  we  presume  to  fix  the  time  for  an  adven- 
ture, which  Mr.  S&iart,  in  his  old  age,  often  mentioned.  His 
father’s  business  was  broken  up  by  the  events  of  the  war  in 
America;  the  friend  upon  whom  he  relied  had  left  London;  he 
found  himself  poor  and  unknown  in  that  desert,  a populous 
metropolis,  without  money,  experience  or  prudence — it  was 
then  that  his  knowledge  of  music,  practical  and  theoretical, 
stood  him  in  stead,  and  gave  him  the  means  of  subsistence  in 
a manner  as  extraordinary  as  his  character  and  actions  were 
eccentric.  To  Mr.  Charles  Fraser,  of  Charleston,  and  Mr. 
Thomas  Sully,  of  Philadelphia,  he  related  the  following  cir- 
cumstances nearly  in  the  same  words. 

While  destitute  of  the  means  whereby  to  support  himself,  or 
pay  his  landlord  for  board  and  lodging,  already  due,  walking 
the  streets  without  any  definite  object  in  view,  he  passed  by  a 
church  in  Foster-lane;  he  observed  that  the  door  was  open, 
and  several  persons  going  in.  At  the  same  time,  the  sound  of 
an  organ  struck  his  ear,  ever  alive  to  the  “ concord  of  sweet 
sounds,”  and  he  approached  the  door,  at  first  only  to  gratify 
his  sense  of  harmony.  Before  venturing  to  enter  a temple  de- 
voted to  the  worship  of  the  benevolent  Giver  of  good  to  all,  he 
had  to  consider  the  cost  as  the  pew-woman  would  expect  her 
fee.  He  therefore,  after  indulging  himself  with  the  sounds 
which  issued  from  the  door,  as  a hungry  pauper  snuffs  the 
savours  from  a cook’s  shop,  asked  of  a person  who  was  enter- 
ing to  the  feast,  if  any  thing  particular  was  going  on  within  ; 
and  was  told  that  the  vestry  were  sitting  as  judges  of  several 
candidates  for  the  situation  of  organist,  the  former  incumbent 
having  recently  died.  The  trial  was  then  going  on — Stuart 
entered  the  church,  kept  clear  of  the  pew-woman,  and  placed 
himself  near  the  judges,  when  being  encouraged,  as  he  said,  by 
a look  of  good  nature  in  one  of  the  vestry-men’s  jolly  counte- 
nance, and  by  the  consciousness,  that  he  could  produce  better 
tones  from  the  instrument  than  any  he  had  heard  that  day,  he 
addressed  the  man  with  the  inviting  face,  and  asked  if  he,  a 


His  skill  in  music. 


171 


stranger,  might  try  his  skill  and  become  a candidate  for  the 
vacant  place.  He  was  answered  in  the  affirmative,  and  he  had 
the  pleasure  to  find  that  the  time  he  had  employed  in  making 
himself  a musician,  had  not  been  thrown  away  even  in  the  most 
worldly  acceptation  of  the  words.  His  performance  was  pre- 
ferred to  that  of  his  rivals,  and  after  due  inquiries  and  a refer- 
ence, (doubtless  to  Mr.  Grant,  to  whom  alone  he  had  brought 
letters,)  by  which  his  fitness  for  the  station  was  ascertained,  he 
was  engaged  as  the  organist  of  the  church,  at  a salary  of  thirty 
pounds  a year.  He  was  thus  relieved  from  his  present  neces- 
sities, and  enabled  to  pursue  his  studies  as  a painter.  “ When” 
said  Mr.  Fraser,  “ Mr.  Stuart  related  this  anecdote  to  me,  he 
was  sitting  in  his  parlour,  and  as  if  to  prove  that  he  did  not 
neglect  the  talent  that  had  been  so  friendly  to  him  in  his  youth, 
and  in  the  days  of  extreme  necessity,  he  took  his  seat  at  a small 
organ  in  the  room,  and  played  several  old  fashioned  tunes  with 
much  feeling  and  execution.  Mr.  Sully  related  this  anecdote 
of  Stuart’s  early  life  nearly  in  the  same  words,  and  praised  his 
execution  on  an  organized  piano-forte  very  highly.  Mr.  Sully’s 
taste  and  knowledge  of  music  render  his  approbation  high 
authority  as  to  Stuart’s  skill  on  this  instrument. 

Doctor  Waterhouse  justly  observes,  that  “ Stuart’s  acknow- 
ledged advancement  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  music  was 
a fresh  evidence  of  his  vigorous  intellect  and  various  talents, 
which  constitutes  genius.  He  certainly  had  that  peculiar 
structure  of  the  brain  or  mind  which  gives  an  aptitude  to  excel 
in  every  thing  to  which  he  chose  to  direct  his  strong  faculties.” 
On  the  return  of  this  friend  to  London,  he  had  the  pleasure 
of  procuring  several  sitters  for  the  young  painter ; but  could 
with  difficulty  keep  the  eccentric  genius  in  a straight  course 
or  within  legitimate  limits.  We  will  let  the  doctor  tell  this 
portion  of  Stuart’s  story  in  his  own  way. 

“ As  I was  at  that  time  1 walking  the  hospitals,’  as  they  call 
it,  I took  up  my  quarters  in  Gracechurch-street,  to  be  near  St. 
Thomas’s  and  Guy’s  Hospitals,  which  was  about  three  miles 
from  Stuart’s  lodgings,  an  inconvenience  and  grievance  to  us 
both  as  we  could  not  see  each  other  every  day.  Therefore  mea- 
sures were  taken  to  procure  him  lodgings  between  the  houses  of 
my  two  cousins,  Mrs.  Freeman  and  Mrs.  Chorley,  nieces  of  my 
kinsman  and  patron  Dr.  Fothergill.  This  was  the  best  I 
could  do  for  my  friend  ; but  it  was  not  the  most  favoured  loca- 
tion for  a professor  of  one  of  the  fine  arts , seeing,  the  quakers 
are  distinguished  more  for  their  attachment  to  the  plain  arts. 
Yet  we  made  out  amongst  us  to  keep  Stuart  even  with  his 
landlord  and  washer-woman,  which  was  doing  better  than  he 


172 


Stuart’s  imprudence. 

had  done.  Dr.  Fothergill  directed  him  to  paint  my  portrait 
for  him,  which  1 considered  as  a delicate  mode  of  giving  the 
young  American  artist  ten  guineas,  for  no  one  ever  knew  what 
became  of  it  after  it  was  carried  to  Harpur-street.  Doctor 
William  Curtis,  author  of  the  splendid  Flora  Londinensis  sat 
for  his  portrait,  and  , so  did  two  beautiful  young  ladies,  sisters  ; 
one  with  dark  hair,  as  the  tragic  muse,  the  other  with  reddish 
hair  and  light  blue  eyes,  as  the  comic  muse ; and  yet  both 
daughters  of  parents  remarkable  for  walking  by  the  strictest 
rules  of  the  sect  in  which  they  were  distinguished  leaders. 
The  celebrated  Doctor  Lettsom  wa9  easily  persuaded  to  sit  or 
rather  stand  for  his  full-length  picture  for  the  royal  exhibition — 
nevertheless  Stuart  was  very  poor  and  in  debt.  Of  my  allow- 
ance of  pocket-money  he  always  had  two  thirds,  and  more  than 
once  the  other  third.  He  never  finished  Doctor  Lettsom’s 
portrait,  and  was  of  course  deprived  of  that  opportunity  of 
exhibiting  the  picture  of  a well-known  physician  and  philan- 
thropist.” 

This  reminds  us  of  his  declining  to  paint  the  full-length  of  Mr. 
Redwood,  in  Newport.  Is  it  not  probable  that  Stuart  found 
that  even  yet  he  could  not  paint  a full-length  that  would  be  re- 
ceived at  Somerset-house,  or  if  received,  contribute  to  his  repu- 
tation ? His  friend  proceeds  : 

“I  devised  another  plan  to  benefit  him.  Dr.  George  For- 
dyce,  a very  learned  Scotch  physician,  whose  medical  and  che- 
mical lectures,  I every  morning  attended  in  Essex-street,  dur- 
ing between  two  and  three  years,  was  a philosophical  physi- 
cian much  admired  by  his  pupils.  I proposed  to  my  fellow- 
students  to  procure  a fine  engraving  of  our  favourite  teacher. 
The  proposal  took  at  once,  and  I was  authorized  to  have  the 
portrait  taken  by  my  friend  and  companion,  Gilbert  Charles 
Stuart,  and  they  each  one  paid  me  their  half-guinea  subscrip- 
tion, and  I was  unwise  enough  to  let  my  needy  friend  have 
the  greater  part  of  it  before  he  commenced  the  painting,  which 
I never  could  induce  him  even  to  begin.  This  was  a source 
of  inexpressible  unhappiness  and  mortification,  which  at  length 
brought  on  me  a fever,  the  only  dangerous  disease  I ever  en- 
countered. After  my  recovery  I had  to  refund  the  money, 
when  I had  not  a farthing  of  my  own,  but  what  came  from  the 
thoughtful  bounty  of  my  most  excellent  kinsman,  Dr.  Fother- 
gill, who  would  never  afterwards  see  Gilbert  Charles  Stuart. 
Twice  before  this  I took  him  out  of  a sponging-house  by  pay- 
iug  the  demands  for  which  he  was  confined.” 

It  appears  that  all  this  could  not  shake  the  friendship  or 
break  the  cords  which  attached  the  student  of  medicine  to  his 


Unknown  to  West  until  1778. 


173 


imprudent  countryman  ; for  he  goes  on  to  say,  “ Stuart  and  1 
agreed  to  devote  one  day  in  the  week  to  viewing  pictures, 
wherever  wc  could  get  admittance.  We  used  Maitland’s 
description  of  London  for  a guide.  We  found  nothing  equal 
to  the  collection  at  the  Queen’s  Palace  or  Buckingham  House. 
We  made  it  a point  also  to  walk  together  through  all  the  nar- 
row lanes  of  London,  and  having  a pocket  map,  we  marked 
such  streets  and  lanes  as  we  passed  through  with  a red  lead 
pencil,  and  our  map  was  full  two  thirds  streaked  over  with  red 
when  we  received  some  solemn  cautions  and  advice  to  desist 
from  our  too  curious  rambles.  We  were  told  by  some  who 
knew  better  than  we  did,  that  we  run  a risk  of  bodily  injury, 
or  the  loss  of  our  hats  and  watches,  if  not  our  lives,  when  we 
gave  up  the  project.  We  had,  however,  pursued  it  once  a 
week  for  more  than  two  years,  and  never  experienced  other 
than  verbal  abuse,  chiefly  from  women,  and  saw  a great  deal  of 
that  dirty,  monstrous,  overgrown  city,  containing,  to  appear- 
ance, no  other  people  than  the  natives  of  Britain  and  Ireland, 
and  a few  Jews,  not  laughing  and  humming  a song  like  the 
populace  of  Paris,  but,  wearing  a stern,  anxious,  discontent- 
ed phiz.” 

“In  the  summer  of  1776,”  the  young  student  of  medicine 
has  told  us  that  he  returned  from  Edinburgh  to  London,  and 
supposing  these  rambles  to  commence  soon  after,  the  two  years 
brings  us  late  in  1778,  in  which  year  Stuart  painted  his  own 
portrait  for  Waterhouse,  at  the  age  of  24,  which  is  said  to  be 
a picture  of  extraordinary  merit.  All  this  time  the  young 
painter  had  never  been  introduced  to  his  countryman,  West. 
There  appears  to  be  no  reason  for  this  neglect  on  Stuart’s 
part.  This  source  of  instruction  was  accessible  to  all ; and 
particularly  to  Americans.  His  doors  were  ever  open,  and  his 
advice  ever  freely  given. 

In  a letter  before  us  it  appears  that  Dr.  Waterhouse  enjoyed 
the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  West,  “ from  the  year  1775,”  he  says, 
“ My  introduction  to  that  interesting  painter,  was  through  the 
friendly  attention  of  his  own  father.”  Yet  late  in  the  year 
1778,  Gilbert  Stuart  was  unknown  to  Benjamin  West,  though 
residing  with  Waterhouse  in  London.  Doctor  Waterhouse 
thinks  that  after  this  long  delay,  he  was  the  means  of  intro- 
ducing Stuart  to  Mr.  West,  but  we  prefer  the  following  ac- 
count from  Mr.  Sully,  not  doubting  in  the  least  the  accuracy 
of  the  doctor’s  statement,  that  he  “called  upon  Mr.  West,  and 
laid  open  to  him  his  (Stuart’s)  situation,  when  that  worthy  man 
saw  into  it  at  once,  and  sent  him  three  or  four  guineas,”  and 
that  two  days  afterward  he  sent  his  servant  into  the  city  to  ask 


174 


Stuarts  introduction  to  West. 


Mr.  Stuart  to  come  to  him,  when  he  employed  him  in  copying.” 
But  we  believe  the  introduction  to  have  taken  place  prior  to 
Waterhouse’s  visit,  although  probably  a very  few  days. 

When  Mr.  Sully  returned  home  from  England,  West  gave 
him  a letter  to  his  old  friend  Mr.  Wharton,  then  a governor  of 
the  Pennsylvania  hospital,  respecting  a place  for  the  reception 
of  the  great  picture  of  the  44  Healing  in  the  Temple,”  and 
Wharton,  in  conversation  on  the  subject  of  paintings  and  paint- 
ers, told  Sully  that  he  introduced  Stuart  to  West,  and  related 
the  circumstance  thus  : 

“ 1 was  with  several  other  Americans  dining  with  West, 
when  a servant  announced  a person  as  wanting  to  speak  to 
him.  4 1 am  engaged  but,  after  a pause,  he  added,  4 Who  is 
he?’  ‘ He  says,  sir,  that  he  is  from  America.’  That  was  enough. 
West  left  the  table  immediately,  and  on  returning,  said,  4 Whar- 
ton, there  is  a young  man  in  the  next  room,  who  says  he  is 
known  in  our  city,  go  you  and  see  what  you  can  make  of  him.’ 
1 went  out  and  saw  a handsome  youth  in  a fashionable  green 
coat,  and  I at  once  told  him  that  I was  sent  to  see  what  I could 
make  of  him.  4 You  are  known  in  Philadelphia?’  4 Yes  sir.’ 

4 Your  name  is  Stuart  ?’  4 Yes.’  4 Have  you  no  letters  for  Mr. 
West?’  4Nosir.’  4 Who  do  you  know  in  Philadelphia?’  4 Joseph 
Anthony  is  my  uncle.’  4 That’s  enough — come  in,’  and  I 
carried  him  in,  and  he  received  a hearty  welcome.” 

Such  appears  to  be  the  authentic  account  of  Stuart’s  intro- 
duction to  the  man  from  whose  instruction  he  derived  the  most 
important  advantages  from  that  time  forward  ; whose  charac- 
ter he  always  justly  appreciated,  but  whose  example  he  could 
not,  or  would  not  follow. 

It  appears  from  this,  that  notwithstanding  Stuart’s  poverty 
at  this  time,  he  was  well  dressed.  Waterhouse  says  that  he 
lived  in  the  house  of  a tailor.  It  appears  that  Stuart  painted 
more  than  one  picture  of  Waterhouse.  44 1 was  often  to  him,” 
says  the  Doctor,  44  what  Rembrandt’s  mother  was  to  that  won- 
derful Dutchman,  an  object  at  hand  on  which  to  exercise  a 
ready  pencil.  I once  prevailed  on  him  to  try  his  pencil  on  a 
canvass  of  a three*  quarter  size,  representing  me  with  both  hands 
clasping  my  right  knee,  thrown  over  my  left  one,  and  looking 
steadfastly  on  a human  skull  placed  on  a polished  mahohany 
table.’  ” As  this  is  all  we  hear  of  this  picture  it  was  probably 
left  unfinished  and  destroyed. 

Of  his  friend  Gilbert’s  epistolary  habits,  the  Doctor  gives 
the  following  account.  He  says,  on  one  occasion  44  Mr.  Stuart 
sent  me  the  following  letter : 4 Friend  Benjamin,  by  no  means 
disappoint  me,  but  be  at  my  lodgings  precisely  at  three 


175 


Stuart’s  Correspondence . 

o’clock,  to  go  to  the  Queen’s  Palace.  Yours,  G.  Stuart.  Satur 
day  afternoon.’  ” There  was  no  date  of  the  month  or  year, 
but  I think  it  was  in  the  summer  of  1778.  In  one  of  his  let- 
ters, written  to  me  while  at  Edinburgh,  in  the  latter  end  of  the 
year  1775,  or  the  beginning  of ’76,  he  writes  thus  in  a P.  S. 

‘ I don’t  know  the  day  of  the  month  or  even  what  month,  and 
I have  no  one  to  ask  at  present,  but  the  day  of  the  week  is 
Tuesday,  I believe.’  I question  if  Mr.  Stuart  ever  wrote  a 
line  to  either  father,  mother  or  sister,  after  he  went  to  England. 
The  first  letter  he  wrote  to  me  while  at  Edinburgh,  was  a few 
days  after  his  arrival  in  London,  in  which  he  says,  * Your 
father  was  at  our  house  just  before  I left  home,  when  he  said 
Gilbert  and  Ben  are  so  knit  together  like  David  and  Jona- 
than, that  if  they  heard  from  one,  they  would  also  hear  from 
the  other.’  But  in  this  he  was  mistaken  ; Gilbert  Stuart’s 
parents  never  had  a single  line  from  him,  and  I doubt  if  there 
be  in  existence  a single  letter  in  his  remaining  family,  or  any 
where  else,  except  four  of  his  letters  in  my  possession.  How 
often  have  I entreated  him  to  write  to  his  mother!  He  was 
in  this  respect  a strange  character.  Strongly  attached  to  his 
parents,  yet  he  was  too  indolent — or  too  something  else,  to 
write  them  a letter  when  he  knew  that  Rhode-Island  was  first  a 
British  post,  and  then  a French  one  ; and  that  his  parents  and 
sister  found  it  expedient  to  quit  Newport  for  the  British  port 
of  Halifax,  in  Nova  Scotia;  and  when  there  were  numerous 
opportunities  every  week  to  that  country,  he  never  wrote  a 
line  to  them.” 

Soon  after  Stuart’s  introduction  to  Mr.  West,  Doctor  Water- 
house  went  to  Leyden  to  finish  his  studies,  and  they  did  not 
meet  again  until  many  years  after  both  had  returned  to  Ame- 
rica. 

From  Mr.  John  Trumbull  we  have  the  next  notice  of  Stuart 
in  point  of  time.  Mr.  Trumbull  after  studying  in  Boston  for 
some  years,  occupying  the  room  which  had  been  Smybert’s, 
and  in  which  many  of  his  pictures  still  remained,  made  his  way 
through  France  to  London,  with  letters  to  Mr.  West,  in 
August,  1780.  He  found  Stuart  at  Mr.  West’s  house  in  New- 
man-street,  and  thus  described  his  appearance*  “ He  was 
dressed  in  an  old  black  coat  with  one  half  torn  off  the  hip  and 
pinned  up,  and  looked  more  like  a poor  beggar  than  a painter.” 
Such  is  the  description  taken  down  by  Mr.  Herring  from  the 
mouth  of  Mr.  Trumbull.  Mr.  Herring’s  manusa  ipt  note  from 
Mr.  Trumbull  proceeds  thus,  “ He,  (Stuart)  was  wretchedly 
poor  while  in  London,  and  on  one  occasion  when  he  was  sick, 
Trumbull  called  to  see  him  ; he  found  him  in  bed  and  ap- 


176  Mr.  TrumbulVs  account  of  Stuart. 

parently  very  ill.  Sometime  afterwards  he  asked  Trumbull 
if  he  had  any  idea  what  was  the  matter  with  him.  On  being 
told  that  he  had  not,  he  stated  that  it  was  hunger  ! that  he  had 
eaten  nothing  in  a week  but  a sea-biscuit.” 

Our  readers  will  recollect  that  this  beggarly  appearance 
and  absolute  starvation,  was  after  Stuart  had  been  received 
as  a pupil  by  Benjamin  West,  and  employed  by  him  in  copy- 
ing for  him,  and  otherwise  assisting  his  labours. 

The  above  account  of  Stuart’s  situation  in  London,  in  the 
year  1780,  having  been  submitted  to  Doctor  Waterhouse,  he 
wrote  on  it,  “ I had  introduced  him  to  the  family  of  Doctor 
Fothergill’s  nieces,  Mrs.  Freeman  and  Mrs.  Chorley,  and 
they  extended  towards  him  every  kind  act  of  hospitality  and 
friendship,  and  would  have  never  withheld  assistance  had  they 
known  he  wanted  for  any  thing,  so  long  as  I was  in  the  way 
of  knowing  any  thing  about  them  or  him  in  London.  How  he 
stood  with  them  after  I left  London  for  Leyden,  I cannot  say, 
but  they  both  remembered  him  in  their  letters  to  me.” 

The  following  is  from  Mr.  Trumbull,  through  Mr.  Herring. 
“ He,  (Stuart,)  never  could  exercise  the  patience  necessary 
to  correct  drawing.  When  a scholar  of  Mr.  West’s,  his  friend 
and  instructor  observed  to  his  son  Raphael,  Trumbull  and 
Stuart,  * You  ought  to  go  to  the  academy  to  study  drawing; 
but  as  you  would  not  like  to  go  there  without  being  able  to 
draw  better  than  you  now  do — if  you  will  only  attend  I will 
keep  a little  academy,  and  give  you  instructions  every  even- 
ing.’ This  proposition  was  embraced  with  pleasure,  and  ac- 
cordingly the  course  commenced.  Trumbull  and  young  West 
applied  themselves  with  diligence,  and  became  adepts.  Stuart 
soon  made  his  paper  black  all  over,  lost  his  patience,  and  gave 
it  up.”  So  far  Trumbull.  Another  anecdote  respecting  Stu- 
art’s drawing  is,  that  Fuseli  on  seeing  some  of  his  drawings, 
said,  1 If  this  is  the  best  you  can  do,  you  had  better  go  and 
make  shoes.’  ” 

These  anecdotes  being  submitted  by  Mr.  Herring  to  Doctor 
Waterhouse,  he  writes  on*  the  paper — 11  S.  was  patient  and 
even  laborious  in  his  drawings,  and  Mr.  F.  had  he  the  eye  of 
a true  painter,  must  have  seen  real  genius  in  his  early  draw- 
ings.” 

As  Fuseli  has  been  here  introduced,  we  will  quote  from  Mr. 
Allston  an  anecdote  connected  both  with  him  and  our  present 
subject.  Mr.  Allston  had  been  previously  giving  his  opinion 
of  the  character  of  the  Swiss  artist,  and  he  concludes  thus : 

“ Before  l leave  Fuseli,  I must  tell  you  a whimsical  anecdote 
which  I had  from  Stuart.  S.  was  one  day  at  Raphael  Smith’s 


177 


Stuart’s  leg , — and  latin . 

the  engraver,  when  Fuseli,  to  whom  Stuart  was  then  unknown, 
came  in,  who,  having  some  private  business,  was  taken  into 
another  room.  4 1 know  that  you  are  a great  physiognomist, 
Mr.  Fuseli,’  said  Smith.  4 Well,  what  if  I am  ?’  4 Pray  did 
you  observe  the  gentleman  I was  talking  with  just  now?’  4 1 
saw  the  man;  what  then?’  4 Why  I wish  to  know  if  you 
think  he  can  paint?’  4 Umpli,  I don’t  know  but  he  might — 
he  has  a coot  leg.’  Poor  Stuart ! that  same  leg,  which  I well 
remember  to  have  been  a finely  formed  one,  became  the  sub- 
ject of  a characteristic  joke  with  him  but  a few  weeks  before 
he  died.  I asked  4 how  he  wras  ?’  He  was  then  very  much 
emaciated.  4 Ah’  said  he,  4 you  can  judge  ;’  and  he  drew  up 
his  pantaloons.  4 You  see  how  much  I am  out  of  drawing .’ 

44  He  was  a much  better  scholar  (ban  I had  supposed  he 
was,”  said  Mr.  Trumbull,  speaking  of  Stuart,  as  he  knew 
him  in  London.  44  He  once  undertook  to  paint  my  portrait, 
and  I sat  every  day  for  a week,  and  then  he  left  off  without 
finishing  it,  saying,  he  ‘could  make  nothing  of  my  damn’d 
sallow  face.’  But  during  the  time,  in  his  conversation  he  ob- 
served, that  he  had  not  only  read,  but  remembered  what  he  had 
read.  In  speaking  of  the  character  of  man,  4 Linnaeus  is  right’, 
said  he,  4 Plato  and  Diogenes  call  man  a biped  without 
feathers  ; that’s  a shallow  definition.  Franklin’s  is  better — a 
tool-making  animal ; but  Linnseus’  is  the  best — homo,  animal 
mendax,  rapax,  pugnax.’  ” 

It  was  our  impression  that  Stuart  received  his  education  in 
Scotland,  having  been  sent  thither  by  his  father  for  that  pur- 
pose; but  the  testimony  of  Doctor  Waterhouse,  as  above  given, 
shows  that  his  knowledge  of  classical  literature  was  obtained 
in  Newport,  when  he  was  the  doctor’s  school-fellow. 

We  have  seen  that  the  young  painter  was  received  as  a pupil 
- by  Mr.  West,  in  the  summer  of  1778,  and  at  the  age  of  24.  At 
this  age  he  had  painted  his  own  portrait,  to  the  great  excellence 
of  which  Doctor  Waterhouse  bears  ample  testimony.  He  says, 
44  It  is  painted  in  his  freest  manner,  with  a Rubens’  hat ;”  and 
in  another  passage,  says  that  Stuart  in  his  best  days  said  he 
need  not  be  ashamed  of  it.  Thus  qualified  and  thus  situated, 
Stuart’s  friend  Waterhouse  left  him,  and  did  not  again  see  him 
until  the  evening  of  his  life.  We  have  now  to  seek  for  other 
sources  of  information  respecting  the  subject  of  our  memoir. 

To  Mr.  Charles  Fraser  of  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  we 
are  indebted  for  communications  made  with  a frankness  which 
adds  to  their  value.  He  says  Mr.  Stuart  told  him,  44  that  on 
application  to  Mr.  West  to  receive  him  as  a pupil,  he  was 
welcomed  with  true  benevolence,  encouraged,  and  taken  into 

23 


178 


West , Stuart , and  the  king’s  picture. 

the  family  ; that  nothing  could  exceed  the  attention  of  that 
artist  to  him  ; they  were,  said  he,  paternal.”  Two  years  after 
this,  when  Mr.  Trumbull  saw  him  at  work  in  Mr.  West’s 
house,  in  an  old  torn  coat,  and  looking  like  a beggar,  we  can 
only  suppose  that  Stuart,  like  many  others,  had  put  on  an  old 
coat  while  at  work  to  save  a new  one. 

Of  this  period  of  his  life  he  has  often  spoken  to  the  writer. 
On  one  occasion,  as  1 stood  by  his  esel  and  admired  the  magic 
of  his  pencil,  he  amused  me  and  my  companion,  whose  portrait 
he  was  painting,  by  the  following  anecdote  of  himself  and  his 
old  master 

“ Mr.  West  treated  me  very  cavalierly  on  one  occasion,  but 
1 had  my  revenge.  It  was  the  custom,  whenever  a new  Gov- 
ernor-General was  sent  out  to  India,  that  he  should  be  compli- 
mented by  a present  of  his  majesty’s  portrait,  and  Mr.  West 
being  the  king’s  painter,  was  called  upon  on  all  such  occasions. 
So,  when  Lord  — — was  about  to  sail  for  his  government,  the 
usual  order  was  received  for  his  majesty’s  likeness.  My  old 
master,  who  was  busily  employed  upon  one  of  his  ten-acre 
pictures,  in  company  with  prophets  and  apostles,  thought  he 
would  turn  over  the  king  to  me.  He  never  could  paint  a por- 
trait. ‘ Stuart,’  said  he,  ‘it  is  a pity  to  make  his  majesty  sit 
again  for  his  picture  ; there  is  the  portrait  of  him  that  you  paint- 
ed, let  me  have  it  for  Lord  - — — : I will  retouch  it,  and  it  will 
do  well  enough.’  ‘ Well  enough  ! very  pretty,’  thought  I,  ‘you 
might  be  civil  when  you  ask  a favor.’  So  I thought , but  I said , 
‘ Very  well,  sir.’  So  the  picture  was  carried  down  to  his 
room,  and  at  it  he  went.  I saw  he  was  puzzled.  He  worked 
at  it  all  that  day.  The  next  morning,  ‘ Stuart,’  said  he,  ‘ have 
you  got  your  palette  set?’  ‘Yes,  sir.’  ‘Well,  you  can  soon 
set  another,  let  me  have  the  one  you  prepared  for  yourself ; I 
can’t  satisfy  myself  with  that  head.’  I gave  him  my  palette, 
and  he  worked  the  greater  part  of  that  day.  In  the  afternoon 
1 went  into  his  room,  and  he  was  hard  at  it.  I saw  that  he 
had  got  up  to  the  knees  in  mud.  ‘ Stuart,’  says  he,  ‘ I don’t 
know  how  it  is,  but  you  have  a way  of  managing  your  tints 
unlike  every  body  else, — here,— take  the  palette  and  finish  the 
head.’  ‘1  can’t,  sir.’  ‘You  can’t?’  ‘I  can’t  indeed,  sir,  as 
it  is,  but  let  it  stand  till  to-morrow  morning  and  get  dry,  and  I 
will  go  over  it  with  all  my  heart.’  The  picture  was  to  go  away 
the  day  after  the  morrow,  so  he  made  me  promise  to  do  it  early 
next  morning.  You  know  he  never  came  down  into  the 
painting-room,  at  the  bottom  of  the  gallery,  until  about  ten 
o’clock.  I went  into  his  room  bright  and  early,  and  by  half- 
past nine  I had  finished  the  head.  That  done,  Rafe  and  I 


179 


How  to  calculate  the  price  of  a portrait 

began  to  fence  ; I with  my  maul-stick  and  he  with  his  father’s. 
I had  just  driven  Rafe  up  to  the  wall,  with  his  back  to  one  of 
his  father’s  best  pictures,  when  the  old  gentleman,  as  neat  as  a 
lad  of  wax,  with  his  hair  powdered,  his  white  silk  stockings, 
and  yellow  morocco  slippers,  popped  into  the  room,  looking 
as  if  lie  had  stepped  out  of  a bandbox.  We  had  made  so  much 
noise  that  we  did  not  hear  him  come  down  the  gallery  or  open 
the  door.  ‘ There  you  dog,’  says  I to  Rafe,  ‘ there  I have 
you  ! and  nothing  but  your  background  relieves  you  !’  The 
old  gentleman  could  not  help  smiling  at  my  technical  joke,  but 
soon  looking  very  stern,  ‘ Mr.  Stuart,’  said  he,  ‘ is  this  the  way 
you  use  me?’  ‘Why,  what’s  the  matter,  sir?  I havemeithcr  hurt 
the  boy  nor  the  background.’  ‘ Sir,  when  you  knew  I had  pro- 
mised that  the  picture  of  his  majesty  should  be  finished  to-day, 
ready  to  be  sent  away  to-morrow,  thus  to  be  neglecting  me 
and  your  promise  ! How  can  you  answer  it  to  me  or  to  your- 
self?’ ‘Sir,’  said  I,  ‘do  not  condemn  me  without  examining 
the  esel.  I have  finished  the  picture,  please  to  look  at  it.’  He 
did  so ; complimented  me  highly  ; and  I had  ample  revenge 
for  his  ‘ It  will  do  well  enough.’  ” 

The  following  anecdote,  told  under  nearly  the  same  circum- 
stances, refers  to  a later  date,  as  Trumbull  is  made  an  actor  in 
the  scene - 

“ I used  very  often  to  provoke  my  good  old  master,  though 
heaven  knows,  without  intending  it.  You  remember  the  color 
closet  at  the  bottom  of  his  painting  room.  One  day  Trumbull 
and  I came  into  his  room,  and  little  suspecting  that  he  was 
within  hearing,  I began  to  lecture  on  his  pictures,  and  particu- 
larly upon  one  then  on  his  esel.  I was  a giddy  foolish  fellow 
then.  He  had  begun  a portrait  of  a child,  and  he  had  a way 
of  making  curly  hair  by  a flourish  of  his  brush,  thus,  like  a 
figure  of  three.  ‘ Here,  Trumbull,’  said  I,  ‘ do  you  want  to 
learn  how  to  paint  hair  ? There  it  is,  my  boy  ! Our  master 
figures  out  a head  of  hair  like  a sum  in  arithmetic.  Let  us 
see, — we  may  tell  how  many  guineas  he  is  to  have  for  this 
head  by  simple  addition, — three  and  three  make  six,  and  three 
are  nine,  and  three  are  twelve — ’ How  much  the  sum  would 
have  amounted  to  I can’t  tell,  for  just  then  in  stalked  the  mas- 
ter, with  palette-knife  and  palette,  and  put  to  flight  my  cal- 
culations. 'Very  well,  Mr.  Stuart,’  said  he, — he  always  mis- 
tered me  when  he  was  angry,  as  a man’s  wife  calls  him  my 
dear  when  she  wishes  him  at  the  devil. — ‘Very  well,  Mr. 
Stuart!  very  well,  indeed  !’  You  may  believe  that  I looked 
foolish  enough,  and  he  gave  me  a pretty  sharp  lecture  without 


180 


Stuart  and  Dance • 


my  making  any  reply.  When  the  head  was  finished  there 
were  no  figures  of  three  in  the  hair” 

Before  Stuart  left  the  roof  of  his  benefactor  and  teacher,  he 
painted  a full-length  of  his  friend  and  master,  which  attracted 
great  attention  and  elicited  just  admiration.  It  was  exhibited 
at  Somerset  House,  and  the  young  painter  could  not  resist  the 
pleasure  afforded  by  frequent  visits  to  the  exhibition-rooms, 
and  frequent  glances — who  can  blame  him  ? — at  the  object  of 
admiration.  It  happened  that  as  he  stood,  surrounded  by  art- 
ists and  students,  near  his  master’s  portrait,  the  original  came 
into  the  rooms  and  joined  the  group.  West  praised  the  pic- 
ture, and  addressing  himself  to  his  pupil,  said,  “ You  have 
done  well,  Stuart,  very  well,  now  all  you  have  to  do — is  to  go 
home  and  do  better .” 

“ Stuart  did  not,”  says  Mr.  Fraser,  “ describe  the  course  of 
study  recommended  by  Mr.  West,  but  mentioned  an  occasional 
exercise  that  he  required  of  his  pupils  for  giving  them  facility 
and  accuracy  of  execution  ; which  was  the  faithful  represen- 
tation of  some  object  or  other,  casually  presented  to  the  eye — 
such  as  a piece  of  drapery  thrown  carelessly  over  a chair — - 
Stuart’s  successful  performance  of  one  of  these  tasks  attracted 
the  notice  and  approbation  of  an  eminent  artist,  which  he  said 
were  very  flattering  to  him.  Stuart  had  at  this  time  a room 
for  painting,  appropriated  to  himself  under  his  master’s  roof. 
One  day  a gentleman  entered,  and  after  looking  around  the 
room,  seated  himself  behind  the  young  painter,  who  was  at 
work  at  his  esel.  The  artist  felt  somewhat  embarrassed,  but 
Mr.  West  soon  after  coming  in,  introduced  the  stranger  as  Mr. 
Dance.  Mr.  West  left  the  room,  but  Mr.  Dance  remained 
and  entered  into  conversation  with  Stuart,  who  ventured  to 
ask  his  opinion  of  his  work,  which  was  a portrait.  Dance 
replied,  ‘Young  gentleman,  you  have  done  every  thing  that 
need  be  done,  your  work  is  very  correct !’  The  young  painter 
was  of  course  delighted  with  the  approbation  of  the  veteran, 
especially  as  he  knew  the  reputation  of  Dance  for  skill,  cor- 
rectness of  eye,  and  blunt  eandour.  Mr.  Dance  was  one  of 
those  who  petitioned  the  king  in  1768.  He  was  thought  wor- 
thy to  be  the  third  on  the  list,  his  name  being  placed  between 
Zucarelli  and  Wilson.  Stuart  spoke  of  him  with  great  sensi- 
bility, and  said,  that  while  he  was  yet  studying  with  Mr.  West, 
Dance  said  to  him,  ‘You  are  strong  enough  to  stand  alone — 
take  rooms — those  who  would  be  unwilling  to  sit  to  Mr.  West’s 
pupil,  will  be  glad  to  sit  to  Mr.  Stuart.’  ” 

Mr.  Neagle,  of  Philadelphia,  gives  us  the  following  anec- 
dote as  received  from  the  artist.  “When  studying  at  Somerset- 


Anecdotes . 


181 


house,  in  the  school  of  the  antique,  it  was  proposed  by  his  fel- 
low-students, that  each  one  present  should  disclose  his  inten- 
tions, as  to  what  walk  in  art,  and  what  master  he  would  follow. 
The  proposal  was  agreed  to.  One  said  he  preferred  the  gigan- 
tic Michael  Angelo.  Another  would  follow  in  the  steps  of  the 
gentle,  but  divine  Raphael,  the  prince  of  painters;  and  catch, 
if  possible,  his  art  of  composition,  his  expression  and  profound 
knowledge  of  human  passion.  A third  wished  to  emulate  the 
glow  and  sunshine  of  Titian’s  colouring.  Another  had  deter- 
mined to  keep  Rembrandt  in  his  eye,  and  like  him  eclipse  all 
other  painters  in  the  chiaro  scuro.  Each  was  enthusiastic  in 
the  praise  of  his  favourite  school  or  master.  Stuart’s  opinion 
being  demanded,  he  said,  that  he  had  gone  on  so  far  in  merely 
copying  what  he  saw  before  him,  and  perhaps  he  had  not  a 
proper  and  sufficiently  elevated  notion  of  the  art.  But  after 
all  he  had  heard  them  say,  he  could  not  but  adhere  to  his  old 
opinion  on  the  subject.  4 For  my  own  part,’  said  he,  ‘I  will 
not  follow  any  master.  I wish  to  find  out  what  nature  is  for 
myself,  and  see  her  with  my  own  eyes . This  appears  to  me 
the  true  road  to  excellence.  Nature  may  be  seen  through  dif- 
ferent mediums.  Rembrandt  saw  with  a different  from 
Raphael,  yet  they  are  both  excellent,  but  for  dissimilar  quali- 
ties. They  had  nothing  in  common,  but  both  followed  nature. 
Neither  followed  in  the  steps  of  a master.  I will  do,  in  that, 
as  they  did,  and  only  study  nature.’  While  he  was  speaking, 
Gainsborough  accidentally  came  in,  unobserved  by  him,  and 
as  soon  as  he  ceased,  though  unknown  to  the  speaker,  stepped 
up  to  him,  and  patting  him  on  the  shoulder,  said,  4 That’s 
right,  my  lad;  adhere  to  that,  and  you’ll  be  an  artist.’  ” 

The  lesson  is  very  good,  but  it  is  far  from  being  new.  We 
are  told  by  Pliny,  that  Eupompus  gave  the  same  to  Lysippus. 
Nature  is  to  be  imitated,  and  not  the  artist,  who  has  become 
such  by  imitating  her.  Study  the  original  and  not  the  copy. 

44  He  related  to  a friend  of  mine,”  says  Mr.  Fraser,  44  a little 
incident  that  occurred  while  he  was  with  Mr.  West,  which  is 
sufficiently  interesting  to  be  introduced  in  this  part  of  my  little 
memoir.  Dr.  Johnson  called  one  morning  on  Mr.  West  to 
converse  with  him  on  American  affairs.  After  some  time,  Mr. 
West  said  that  he  had  a young  American  living  with  him  from 
whom  he  might  derive  some  information,  and  introduced 
Stuart.  The  conversation  continued,  (Stuart  being  thus  in- 
vited to  take  a part  in  it,) — when  the  doctor  observed  to  Mr. 
West,  that  the  young  man  spoke  very  good  English — 
and  turning  to  Stuart,  rudely  asked  him  where  he  had  learned 
it.  Stuart  very  promptly  replied,  4 Sir,  I can  better  tell  you 


182 


Stuart  leaves  Mr.  Wesfs  house. 


where  I did  not  learn  it— it  was  not  from  your  dictionary.’ 
Johnson  seemed  aware  of  his  own  abruptness,  and  was  not 
offended.” 

While  Trumbull  and  Stuart  were  together  as  pupils  of  Mr. 
West,  Stuart  being  the  senior  student,  and  more  advanced  in 
the  art,  Trumbull  frequently  submitted  his  works  to  him  for 
the  benefit  of  his  remarks.  Stuart  told  Mr.  Sully,  from  whom 
we  derive  the  anecdote,  that  on  one  occasion  he  was  excessively 
puzzled  by  the  drawing,  “ and  after  turning  it  this  way  and 
that,  I observed,  ‘Why,  Trumbull,  this  looks  as  if  it  was  drawn 
by  a man  with  but  one  eye.’  Trumbull  appeared  much  hurt, 
and  said,  ‘ I take  it  very  unkindly,  sir,  that  you  should  make 
the  remark.’  I couldn’t  tell  what  he  meant,  and  asked  him. 
‘I  presume,  sir,’  he  answered,  ‘that  you  know  I have  lost 
the  sight  of  one  eye,  and  any  allusion  to  it,  in  this  manner,  is 
illiberal.’  Now  I never  suspected  it,  and  only  the  oddness  of 
the  drawing  suggested  the  thing.”  We  have  heard  from 
Stuart’s  companions  in  Boston,  the  same  story,  in  nearly  the 
same  words,  and  when  he  told  it  to  them,  he  went  into  a long 
dissertation  on  optics  to  prove  that  a man,  with  but  the  sight 
of  one  eye,  could  not  possibly  draw  truly.  This  notion  Sully 
thought  perfectly  idle,  and  only  one  of  Stuart’s  whims,  who 
could  lecture  most  eloquently  on  any  subject,  from  the  ana- 
tomy of  a man,  to  the  economy  of  his  shoe-tie. 

We  have  thought  proper  to  relate  such  particulars  as  have 
come  to  our  knowledge,  and  such  anecdotes  told  of  the  great 
portrait-painter,  as  are  immediately  connected  with  his  residence 
under  Mr.  West’s  roof,  before  following  him  to  his  indepen- 
dent establishment.  He  uniformly  said,  that  nothing  could 
exceed  the  attention  of  that  distinguished  artist  to  him.  And 
when  West  saw  that  he  was  fitted  for  the  field — armed  and 
prepared  to  contend  with  the  best  and  the  highest — he  advised 
him  to  commence  his  professional  career,  and  pointed  out  the 
road  to  fame  and  fortune. 

We  are  obliged  to  Mr.  Charles  Fraser  for  the  following,  as 
communicated  to  him  by  Mr.  Stuart,  and  with  it  begin  ano- 
ther chapter. 


Mr.  Grants  f all-length  portrait , 


183 


CHAPTER  X, 

Stuart  commences  his  independent  professional  career  in  London— Skating 
anecdote— Baretti’s  criticism — Dukes  and  lords  praise  his  skill— Paints  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds’  portrait — Johnson’s  reply  respecting  Burke’s  having  aided 
Sir  Joshua  in  his  lectures — Tom,  Towzer,  and  the  mutton-pie — Anecdote  rela- 
ted by  Judge  Hopkinson  of  Lord  Mulgrave,  and  his  brother,  General  Phipps 
— Practice  of  demanding  half-price  at  the  first  sitting  for  a portrait — Anecdote 
related  by  Doctor  Waterhouse  of  Stuart  and  his  travelling  companions — 
Extract  from  a letter  of  Mrs.  Hopncr’s — Doctor  Waterhouse’s  testimony,  to 
Stuart’s  colloquial  powers. 

“ Mr.  Stuart,”  it  is  Mr.  Fraser  speaks,  “in  pursuance  of  Mr. 
West’s  advice,  now  commenced  painting  as  a professional  artist. 
The  first  picture  that  brought  him  into  notice,  before  he  left 
West’s  house,  was  the  portrait  of  a Mr.  Grant,  a Scotch  gentle- 
man, who  had  applied  to  him  for  a full-length.  Stuart  said  that 
he  felt  great  diffidence  in  undertaking  a whole  length  ; but  that 
there  must  be  a beginning,  and  a day  was  accordingly  appointed 
for  Mr.  Grant  to  sit.  On  entering  the  artist’s  room,  he  regretted 
the  appointment,  on  account  of  the  excessive  coldness  of  the 
weather,  and  observed  to  Stuart,  that  the  day  was  better  suited 
for  skating  than  sitting  for  one’s  portrait.  To  this  the  painter 
assented,  and  they  both  sallied  out  to  their  morning’s  amuse- 
ment. Stuart  said  that  early  practice  had  made  him  very 
expert  in  skating.  His  celerity  and  activity  accordingly  at- 
tracted crowds  on  the  Serpentine  river — which  was  the  scene  of 
their  sport.  His  companion,  although  a well-made  and  grace- 
ful man,  was  not  as  active  as  himself ; and  there  being  a crack 
in  the  ice,  which  made  it  dangerous  to  continue  their  amuse- 
ment, he  told  Mr.  Grant  to  hold  the  skirt  of  his  coat,  and 
follow  him  oft’  the  field.  They  returned  to  Mr.  Stuart’s  rooms, 
where  it  occurred  to  him  to  paint  Mr.  Grant  in  the  attitude  of 
skating,  with  the  appendage  of  a winter  scene,  in  the  back 
ground.  He  consented,  and  the  picture  was  immediately 
commenced.  During  the  progress  of  it,  Baretti,  the  Italian 
lexicographer,  called  upon  Mr.  West,  one  day,  and  coming 
through  mistake  into  Mr.  Stuart’s  room,  where  the  portrait 
was,  then  nearly  finished,  he  exclaimed,  * What  a charming 
picture!  who  but  that  great  artist,  West,  could  have  painted 
such  a one  !’  Stuart  said  nothing,  and  as  Mr.  West  was  not 
at  home,  Baretti  called  again,  and  coming  into  the  same 
room,  found  Stuart  at  work  upon  the  very  portrait ; ‘ What, 
young  man,  does  Mr.  West  permit  you  to  touch  his  pictures?’ 
wras  the  salutation.  Stuart  replied  that  the  painting  was  alto- 
gether his  own  ; ‘ Why,’  said  Baretti,  forgetting  his  former 
observation,  * it  is  almost  as  good  as  Mr.  West  can  paint.’ 


184  Great  effect  of  Mr . Grants  portrait . 

“ This  picture  was  exhibited  at  Somerset  House,  and  attract- 
ed so  much  notice,  that  Stuart  said  he  was  afraid  to-go  to  the 
academy  to  meet  the  looks,  and  answer  the  inquiries  of  the 
multitude.  Mr.  Grant  went  one  day  to  the  exhibition, 
dressed  as  his  portrait  represented  him ; the  original  was  im- 
mediately recognized,  when  the  crowd  followed  him  so  closely 
that  he  was  compelled  to  make  his  retreat,  for  every  one  was 
exclaiming,  4 That  is  he,  there  is  the  gentleman.’  Mr.  West 
now  told  Stuart  that  he  might  venture  to  take  rooms.  Returning 
one  morning  from  the  exhibition,  he  stopped  at  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds’ residence  ; whilst  he  was  looking  at  his  pictures,  (and 
here  he  told  me  that  he  had  always  derived  improvement  from 
studying  the  works  of  that  artist,)  the  Duke  of  Rutland 
walked  in,  and  passed  from  the  outer-room,  in  which  Stuart 
was,  into  the  next  one,  where  Sir  Joshua  was  painting ; the 
door  was  left  open,  and  Sir  Joshua  being  hard  of  hearing,  the 
Duke  spoke  so  loud,  that  he  was  overheard,  and  said  to  Sir 
Joshua,  1 1 wish  you  to  go  to  the  exhibition  with  me,  for 
there  is  a portrait  there  which  you  must  see,  every  body  is 
enchanted  with  it.’  Sir  Joshua  inquired  who  it  was  painted 
by  ? 4 A young  man  by  the  name  of  Stuart.’  Stuart  said 

that  he  did  not  remain  to  hear  more.  From  that  time  he  was 
never  at  a loss  for  employment.  He  spoke  of  another  noble- 
man who  he  painted,  and  all  his  family.  Mr.  West  was  so 
pleased  with  the  portrait  of  one  of  the  daughters,  that  he  in- 
troduced her,  from  Stuart’s  picture,  into  his  piece,  of  James 
II.  landing  in  England.  He  painted  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds’ 
portrait,  but  Sir  Joshua  said,  if  that  was  like  him,  he  did 
not  know  his  own  appearance ; which  remark  was  certainly 
not  made  in  the  spirit  of  his  usual  courtesy.  This  picture  was 
painted  about  1784,  and  was  afterwards  in  the  possession  of 
Alderman  Boydell.  He  spoke  very  respectfully  of  Sir  Joshua, 
but  thought  there  was  more  poetry  than  truth  in  his  works. 
He  was  present  one  day  in  a large  company  with  Dr.  John- 
son, where  some  person  ventured  to  tell  the  sage,  that  the 
public  had  charged  him , as  well  as  Mr.  Burke,  with  assisting 
Sir  Joshua  in  the  composition  of  his  lectures.  The  Doctor 
appeared  indignant,  and  replied,  4 Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  sir, 
would  as  soon  get  me  to  paint  for  him  as  to  write  for  him.’  ” 

It  is  difficult  to  account  for  the  very  different  style  of  Stu- 
art’s painting,  from  that  of  the  master  under  whom  he  studied, 
and  whose  works  were  daily  before  him,  and  occasionally  copied 
by  him.  The  pupil  had  directed  his  attention  to  portrait,  and 
the  master  delighted  in  the  higher  branch  of  the  art.  West, 
doubtless,  saw  that  Stuart  was  the  better  portrait-painter; 


185 


Modes  of  colouring. 

and  we  know  that  when  he  saw  the  superiority  of  another,  he 
readily  acknowledged  it.  When  applied  to  for  instruction 
by  an  artist,  now  in  this  city,  he  readily  gave  it,  but  said,  44  if 
you  wish  to  study  portrait-painting,  go  to  Sir  Joshua.”  Stuart 
spoke  freely  of  his  own  superiority  as  a portrait-painter,  and 
used  to  say,  half-joke  half-earnest,  that  “ no  man  ever  painted 
history  if  he  could  obtain  employment  in  portraits.”  In  con- 
nection with  this  difference  of  opinion  and  of  style,  I will  men- 
tion the  following  circumstance  which  took  place  about 
1786,  on  occasion  of  a visit  to  his  old  master’s  house  and  gal- 
lery, in  Newman-street.  Trumbull  was  painting  on  a portrait 
and  the  writer  literally  lending  him  a hand,  by  sitting  for  it. 
Stuart  came  in  and  his  opinion  was  asked,  as  to  the  colouring, 
which  he  gave  very  much  in  these  words,  44  Pretty  well,  pretty 
well,  but  more  like  our  master’s  flesh  than  Nature’s.  When 
Benny  teaches  the  boys,  he  says,  ‘ yellow  and  white  there,’ 
a nd  he  makes  a streak,  4 red  and  white  there,’  another  streak, 
4 blue-black  and  white  there,’  another  streak,  4 brown  and 
red  there,  for  a warm  shadow,’  another  streak,  4 red  and  yel- 
low there,’  another  streak.  But  Nature  does  not  colour  in 
streaks.  Look  at  my  hand  ; see  how  the  colours  are  mottled 
and  mingled,  yet  all  is  clear  as  silver.” 

This  was  and  is  true,  and  yet  Mr.  West’s  theory  is  likewise 
true,  however  paradoxical  it  may  appear.  Mr.  West,  perhaps, 
made  too  great  a distinction  between  the  colouring  appropri- 
ate to  historical  painting,  and  that  best  suited  to  portrait. 

This  anecdote  we  permitted  to  be  published,  and  it  called 
forth  the  animadversion  of  a literary  gentleman  who  professes 
both  love  for  and  knowledge  of  the  art  of  painting.  We, 
however,  repeat  it  for  several  reasons.  First,  because  it  is 
true — as  is  every  circumstance  we  publish  which  is  given  as 
from  our  own  personal  knowledge.  Every  fact  we  so  state 
defies  contradiction  or  controversy.  Secondly,  it  leads  to  a 
consideration  of  the  systems  of  managing  colours  so  very  op- 
posite by  great  painters.  Stuart,  in  after  life,  as  will  be  seen 
in  these  pages,  gave  the  same  lesson  in  different  words,  to  a 
young  painter,  that  he  gave  to  Trumbull  in  1785  or  ’6.  Mr. 
West’s  theory  was  true  to  a certain  extent,  and  a good  lesson 
for  beginners.  Mr.  West  adopted  what  he  considered  an  his- 
torical style  of  colouring,  and  the  consequence  is,  that  now  it 
is  called  quakerlike.  Assuredly  Stuart’s  theory  for  colouring 
flesh  is  the  best ; and  we  can  see  no  reason  why  flesh,  in  a great 
historical  composition,  should  not  be  made  as  true  to  nature 
as  in  a portrait.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Mr.  West  prac- 
tised in  the  manner  given  as  a first  lesson  to  a pupil,  to  the 
24 


186 


Tom , Towzer,  and  the  mutton-pie. 

extent  implied  by  the  words,  but  that  such  was  his  first  lesson 
at  the  time  of  which  we  speak,  we  know.  Of  the  colouring  of 
Stuart  and  of  Trumbull  there  are  so  many  examples  before 
the  public  that  we  need  not  give  an  opinion.  They  are  as 
unlike  as  possible. 

In  the  early  period  of  Stuart’s  career  as  an  in  dependent  por- 
trait-painter, he  had  for  his  attendant  a wild  boy,  the  son  of  a 
poor  widow,  whose  time  was  full  as  much  taken  up  by  play, 
with  another  of  the  painter’s  household,  a fine  Newfoundland 
dog,  as  by  attendance  upon  his  master.  The  boy  and  dog 
were  inseparable  ; and  when  Tom  went  an  errand  Towzer 
must  accompany  him.  Tom  was  a terrible  truant,  and  played 
so  many  tricks  that  Stuart  again  and  again  threatened  to  turn 
him  off,  but  as  often  Tom  found  someway  to  keep  his  hold  on 
his  eccentric  master.  One  day,  as  story-tellers  say,  Tom 
staid  when  sent  of  an  errand  until  Stuart,  out  of  patience, 
posted  off  to  the  boy’s  mother,  determined  to  dismiss  him  ; but 
on  his  entering  the  old  woman  began  first . “ Oh,  Mr.  Stuart., 
Tom  has  been  here.”  “ So  I supposed.”  “ Oh,  Mr.  Stuart, 
the  dog!”  “He  has  been  here,  too:  well,  well,  he  shall  not 
come  again  ; but  Tom  must  come  home  to  you.  I will  not 
keep  him!”  “ Oh,  Mr.  Stuart,  it  was  the  dog  did  it.”  “ Did 
what  ?”  “ Look,  sir  ! look  there  ! the  dog  overset  my  mut- 

ton pie — broke  the  dish — greased  the  floor,  and  eat  the  mut- 
ton !”  “ I’m  glad  of  it ! you  encourage  the  boy  to  come  here, 

and  here  I will  send  him  !”  “It  was  the  dog,  sir,  eat  the  mut- 
ton.” “Well,  the  boy  may  come  and  eat  your  mutton,  I dismiss 
him  ! I’ll  have  no  more  to  do  with  him  !”  The  mother  en- 
treated— insisted  that  it  was  the  dog’s  fault — told  over  and 
again  the  story  of  the  pie,  until  Stuart,  no  longer  hearing  her, 
conceived  the  plan  of  a trick  upon  Tom,  with  a prospect  of  a 
joke,  founded  upon  the  dog’s  dinner  of  mutton-pie.  “ Well., 
well,  say  no  more : here’s  something  for  the  pie,  and  to  buy  a 
dish.  I will  try  Tom  again,  provided  you  never  let  him  know 
that  I came  here  to-day,  or  that  I learned  from  you  any  thing 
of  the  dog  and  the  pie.”  The  promise  was  given  of  course, 
and  Stuart  hastened  home  as  full  of  his  anticipated  trick  to 
try  Tom,  as  any  child  with  a new  rattle.  Tom  found  his 
master  at  ills  esel  where  he  had  left  him,  and  was  prepared 
with  a story  to  account  for  his  delay,  in  which  neither  his  mo- 
ther, nor  Towzer,  nor  the  mutton  made  parts.  “Very  well, 
sir,”  said  the  painter,  “ bring  in  dinner ; I shall  know  all 
about  it  by-and-by.”  Stuart  sat  down  to  his  mutton,  and 
Towzer  took  his  place  by  his  side,  as  usual ; while  Tom,  as 
usual,  stood  in  attendance.  “Well,  Towzer,  your  mouth 


187 


Lord  Midgrave  and  his  brother . 

don’t  water  for  your  share.  Where  have  you  been  ? Whisper.” 
And  he  put  his  ear  to  Towzer’s  mouth,  who  wagged  his  tail  in 
reply.  “I  thought  so.  With  Tom  to  his  mother’s  ?”  “ Bow- 
wow.” “ And  have  you  had  your  dinner  ?”  “ Bow.”  “ I 

thought  so.  What  have  you  been  eating?  Put  your  mouth 
nearer  sir.”  “ Bow-wow  !”  “ Mutton-pie— -very  pretty — 

you  and  Tom  have  eat  Mrs.  Jenkins’s  mutton-pie,  ha?” 
“ Bow-wow.”  u He  lies,  sir,  1 didn’t  touch  it;  he  broke  mo- 
ther’s dish  and  eat  all  the  mutton  !”  From  that  moment  Tom 
thought  if  he  wished  to  deceive  his  master,  he  must  leave  Tow- 
zer  at  home,  but  rather  on  the  whole  concluded  that  w hat  with 
the  dog,  the  devil,  and  the  painter,  he  had  no  chance  for  suc- 
cessful lying. 

The  following  anecdote  was  related  to  us  by  Judge  Hop- 
kinson.  Lord  Mulgrave,  whose  name  .was  Phipps,  employed 
Stuart  to  paint  the  portrait  of  his  brother,  General  Phipps, 
previous  to  his  going  abroad.  On  seeing  the  picture,  which 
he  did  not  until  it  was  finished,  Mulgrave  exclaimed,  “ What 
is  this? — this  is  very  strange!”  and  stood  gazing  at  the  por- 
trait. “I  have  painted  your  brother  as  I saw  him,”  said  the 
artist.  “ I see  insanity  in  that  face,”  was  the  brother’s  remark. 
The  general  went  to  India,  and  the  first  account  his  brother 
had  of  him  was  that  of  suicide  from  insanity.  He  went  mad 
and  cut  his  throat.  It  is  thus  that  the  real  portrait-painter 
dives  into  the  recesses  of  his  sitters’  mind,  and  displays  strength 
or  weakness  upon  the  surface  of  his  canvas.  The  mechanic 
makes  a map  of  a man. 

The  following  was  told  by  Stuart  to  Mr.  Sully.  “ While  I 
was  in  good  practice,  and  some  repute  in  London,  a stranger 
called  upon  me  and  finding  me  engaged  with  a sitter,  begged 
permission  to  look  at  my  pictures,  which  was  readily  accorded, 
and  he  passed  some  time  in  my  exhibition  room.  From  his 
shabby  black  dress  and  respectful  politeness,  I concluded  him 
to  be  some  poet  or  author  from  Grub-street,  and  made  up  my 
mind  that  the  chief  purpose  of  the  visit  was  to  prepare  some 
article  as  a puff  for  the  next  periodical.  A few  days  after  this 
I received  a polite  invitation  to  breakfast,  from  the  Earl  of 

. And  you  mavjudgeof  my  surprise,- when  1 found  in 

my  host  the  supposed  Grub-street  scribbler.  After  breakfast 
the  earl  complimented  me,  and  expressed  his  satisfaction  with 
what  he  had  seen  at  my  rooms,  and  requested  me  to  receive  a 
commission  from  him,  to  paint  a list  of  characters,  whose  names 
I should  find  on  the  paper  he  then  handed  to  me,  the  which  he 
intended  should  decorate  a new  gallery  he  was  constructing 
on  his  grounds.  The  list  contained  the  names  of  the  most  d is- 


183 


Prices — and  half-price  at  first  sitting. 

tinguished  personages  of  the  day,  in  the  political  and  literary 
world,  and  seldom  has  so  splendid  a denouement  followed 
so  unpromising  a beginning.” 

On  the  subject  of  the  prices  he  had  for  portraits  in  London, 
we  will  repeat  an  anecdote,  told  by  Stuart  to  Mr.  Fraser.  A 
gentleman  called  upon  the  painter,  with  the  intention  of  sitting 
for  his  portrait,  and  having  been  told  five  guineas  for  a head, 
halfin  advance,  he  retired,  applied  elsewhere,  and  had  two  por- 
traits painted,  but  not  satisfied,  he  returned  to  Mr.  Stuart  after 
a lapse  of  two  years,  and  found  that  his  price  was  now  thirty 
guineas  a head.  Upon  being  informed  of  this  he  remonstrated 
with  the  artist,  wishing  to  convince  him  that  he  was  bound  to 
paint  him  at  the  first  mentioned  price.  He  was,  however, 
obliged  to  submit  as  well  to  the  terms,  as  to  the  mortification  of 
paying  for  two,  sets  of  portraits. 

Mr.  Stuart  had  his  full  share  of  the  best  business  in  London, 
and  prices  equal  to  any,  except  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and 
Gainsborough.  Respecting  the  practice  of  demanding  half  * 
the  price  at  the  first  sitting,  he  told  Mr.  Fraser,  that,  “Lord 
St.  Vincent,  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  and  Colonel  Barre, 
came  unexpectedly  one  morning  into  my  room,  locked  the  door 
and  then  explained  the  intention  of  their  visit.”  This  was 
shortly  after  his  setting  up  his  independent  esel.  “ They  un- 
derstood,” said  Stuart,  “that  I was  under  pecuniary  embar- 
rassments, and  offered  me  assistance,  which  I declined.  They 
then  said  they  would  sit  for  their  portraits.  Of  course  I was 
ready  to  serve  them.  They  then  advised  that  I should  make 
it  a rule  that  half-price  must  be  paid  at  the  first  sitting.  They 
insisted  on  setting  the  example,  and  I followed  the  practice 
ever  after  this  delicate  mode  of  showing  their  friendship. 

“ On  the  subject  of  demanding  half-price  at  the  first  sittings,” 
Mr.  Fraser  says,  “ he  told  me  the  following  anecdote.  A man 
of  distinction  having  applied  to  him  to  paint  his  portrait,  a day 
was  appointed,  and  the  first  sitting  taken.  On  the  gentleman’s 
preparing  to  leave  the  room,  the  painter  told  him  that  it  was 
his  custom  to  demand  half-price  at  the  first  sitting:  against  this 
the  sitter  warmly  remonstrated,  hoping  that  Mr.  Stuart  had  no 
doubt  of  his  intention  to  pay  for  the  picture  when  finished. 
The  artist  replied,  that  he  had  adopted  it  as  a rule,  and  must 
continue  to  observe  it,  for  if  it  was  departed  from  in  one  in- 
stance, offence  might  be  justly  taken  by  those  who  had  pre- 
viously complied  with  it.  This  conversation  ended  with  the 
retreat  of  the  gentleman — he  not  being  prepared  for  the  re- 
quired ceremony — and  he  never  returned  to  sit,  or  to  pay.” 

At  an  earlier  period  of  our  artist’s  life,  and  probably  before 


189 


Stage-coach  adventure . 

his  introduction  to  Mr.  West,  must  have  happened  the  ad- 
venture I introduce  here,  as  related  by  Doctor  Waterhouse. 
“He  was  travelling  in  England  in  a stage-coach,  with  some 
gentlemen,  who  were  strangers  to  him,  but  all  sociable, 
and  full  of  spirits.  And  after  dinner,  with  conversation 
animated  and  various,  in  which  Stuart,  it  seems,  was  con- 
spicuous; for  his  conversation  was  at  all  times  animated  and 
various,  (and  not  the  less  so  after  dinner,)  upon  any  topic  that 
cast  up,  especially  upon  subjects  that  called  forth  nice  discrimi- 
nation, correct  judgment,  and  rapid  thought,  apt  phrases,  ludi- 
crous images,  and  Burke-like  power  of  expressing  them. 

“ After  blazing  away  in  his  dramatic  manner,  his  companions 
were  very  desirous  to  kno wivho  and  what  he  was,  for  whatever 
Doctor  Franklin  may  have  said  a century  ago  of  the  question- 
asking  propensity  of  his  countrymen,  I never  noticed  so  much 
of  that  kind  of  travelling  curiosity  in  New-England  as  in  Bri- 
tain. On  the  contrary,  I am  certain  that  we  in  the  United 
States  are  remarkably  free  from  that  sort  of  travelling  impor- 
tunateness. To  the  round-about  question,  to  find  out  his  call- 
ing or  profession,  Mr.  Stuart  answered  with  a grave  face,  and 
serious  tone,  that  he  sometimes  dressed  gentlemen’s  and  ladies’ 
hair,  (at  that  time  the  high  craped  pomatumed  hair  was  all 
the  fashion.) — ‘You  are  a hair-dresser  then?’  ‘What!’ 
said  he,  ‘ do  you  take  me  for  a barber  ?’  ‘ I beg  your  pardon 

sir,  but  I inferred  it  from  what  you  said.  If  I mistook  you, 
may  I take  the  liberty  to  ask  what  you  are  then  ?’  ‘Why  X 
sometimes  brush  a gentleman’s  coat,  or  hat,  and  sometimes 
adjust  a cravat.’  ‘ O,  you  are  a valet  then,  to  some  nobleman?’ 
“ A valet ! Indeed,  sir,  I am  not.  I am  not  a servant — to  be 
sure  I make  coats  and  waistcoats  for  gentlemen.’  ‘ Oh  ! you 
are  a tailor  !’  ‘ Tailor!  do  I look  like  a tailor?’  ‘ I’ll  assure 

you,  I never  handled  a goose,  other  than  a roasted  one.’  By 
this  time  they  were  all  in  a roar.  ‘What  the  devil  are  you 
then?’  said  one.  ‘I’ll  tell  $7ou,’  said  Stuart.  ‘Be  assured 
all  I have  said  is  literally  true.  I dress  hair,  brush  hats  and 
coats,  adjust  a cravat,  and  make  coats,  waistcoats,  and 
oreeches,  and  likewise  boots  and  shoes  at  your  serviced  ‘ Oho ! 
a boot  and  shoe-maker  after  all !’  ‘ Guess  again,  gentlemen, 

I never  handled  boot  or  shoe  but  for  my  own  feet  and  legs ; 
yet  all  I have  told  you  is  true.’  ‘We  may  as  well  give  up 
guessing.’  After  checking  his  laughter,  and  pumping  up  a 
fresh  flow  of  spirits  by  a large  pinch  of  snuff,  he  said  to  them 
very  gravely,  ‘ Now,  gentlemen,  I will  not  play  the  fool  with 
you  any  longer,  but  will  tell  you,  upon  my  honour  as  a gentle- 
man, my  bona  fide  profession.  I get  my  bread  by  making 


190 


Stuart's  tricks  upon  travellers. 

faces.’  He  then  screwed  his  countenance,  and  twisted  the 
lineaments  of  his  visage,  in  a manner  such  as  Samuel  Foote 
or  Charles  Mathews  might  have  envied.  When  his  compa- 
nions, after  loud  peals  of  laughter,  had  composed  themselves, 
each  took  credit  to  himself  for  having,  * all  the  while  suspect- 
ed that  the  gentleman  belonged  to  the  theatre,’  and  they  all 
knew  that  he  must  be  a comedian  by  profession ; when  to 
their  utter  surprise,  he  assured  them  that  he  never  was  on  the 
stage,  and  very  rarely  saw  the  inside  of  a play-house,  or  any 
similar  place  of  amusement.  They  now  all  looked  at  each 
other  with  astonishment. 

44  Before  parting,  Stuart  said  to  his  companions,  4 Gentle- 
men, you  will  find  that  all  I have  said  of  my  various  employ- 
ments, is  comprised  in  these  few  words : I am  a portrait- 

painter.  If  you  will  call  at  John  Palmer’s,  York-Buildings, 
London,  where  I shall  be  ready  and  willing  to  brush  you  a 
coat  or  hat,  dress  your  hair,  a la-mode,  supply  you,  if  in  need, 
with  a wig  of  any  fashion  or  dimensions,  accommodate  you 
with  boots  or  shoes,  give  you  ruffles  or  cravats,  and  make 
faces  for  you.’  ” 

44  While  taking  a parting  glass  at  the  inn,  they  begged  leave 
to  inquire  of  their  pleasant  companion,  in  what  part  of  Eng- 
land  he  was  born  ; he  told  them  he  was  not  born  in  England, 
Wales,  Ireland,  or  Scotland.  Here  was  another  puzzle  for 
John  Bull.  4 Where  then  ?’  4 1 was  born  at  Narraganset.’ 

4 Where’s  that  ?’  44  Six  miles  from  Pottawoone,  and  ten 

miles  from  Poppasquash,  and  about  four  miles  west  of  Con- 
nonicut,  and  not  far  from  the  spot  where  the  famous  battle 
with  the  warlike  Pequots  was  fought.’  4 In  what  part  of  the 
East  Indies  is  that,  sir  ?’  4 East  Indies,  my  dear  sir ! it  is  in 

the  state  of  Rhode-Island,  between  Massachusetts  and  Connec- 
ticut river.’  This  was  all  Greek  to  his  companions,  and 
he  left  them  to  study  a new  lesson  of  geography,  affording 
another  instance  of  the  ignorance  of  islanders,  respecting  men 
of  genius,  whose  vernacular  tongue  is  the  same  with  that  of 
Bacon,  Newton,  and  Locke,  Shakspeare,  Milton,  and  Pope.’^ 

The  good  Doctor  might  have  added,  that  probably  these 
same  travelling  gentlemen  knew  as  little  of  the  names  last 
mentioned,  as  of  Narraganset,  Connonicut,  Massachusetts,  or 
Poppasquash.  He  has  added,  in  reference  to  the  Pequots, 

44  This  terrible  battle  with  the  last  of  the  Mohegans,  was 
fought  about  two  hundred  years  ago,  a mile  or  two  from  the 
spot  where  our  great  portrait-painter  was  born.  That  brave 
tribe  of  Indians  never  recovered  from  their  cruel  defeat.  Mr. 
Stuart  visited  the  battle-ground  a few  years  before  his  last 


Date  of  Stuart’s  establishment  in  Berner’s  street.  191 

illness,  and  expressed  his  satisfaction,  that  his  fellow-country- 
men, the  Pequots,  were  among  the  bravest  ot  the  sons  of  the 
new  world.” 

From  a letter  before  me,  written  by  Mrs.  Hopner,  lean  state 
the  date  of  Stuart’s  first  establishment,  after  leaving  West, 
and  setting  up  for  himself.  The  letter  is  dated  June  3d,  1782 ; 
“ To-day  the  exhibition  closes.  If  Hopner  should  be  as  suc- 
cessful next  year  as  he  has  been  this,  he  will  have  established 
a reputation.  Stuart  has  taken  a house,  I am  told,  of  <£150 
a year,  rent,  in  Berner’s  street,  and  is  going  to  set  up  as  a 
great  man.” 

Stuart  had  that  tact  which  induces  men  to  accommodate 
their  conversation,  even  in  the  moment  of  excitement  to  those 
in  whose  company  they  are  thrown.  Doctor  Waterhouse  has 
given  this  testimony  to  his  colloquial  powers.  “ In  conversation 
and  confabulation  he  was  inferior  to  no  man  amongst  us.  He 
made  a point  to  keep  those  talking  who  were  sitting  to  him 
for  their  portraits,  each  in  their  own  way,  free  and  easy.  This 
called  up  all  his  resources  of  judgment.  To  military  men  he 
spoke  of  battles  by  sea  and  land ; with  the  statesman,  on 
Hume’s  and  Gibbon’s  history;  with  the  lawyer,  on  jurispru- 
dence or  remarkable  criminal  trials ; with  the  merchant  in  his 
way  ; with  the  man  of  leisure,  in  his  way ; and  w ith  the  ladies, 
in  all  ways.  When  putting  the  rich  farmer  on  the  canvas,  he 
would  go  along  wdth  him  from  seed  to  harvest  time, — he  would 
descant  on  the  nice  points  of  a horse — ox — cow — sheep  or  pig, 
and  surprise  him  with  his  just  remarks  in  the  progress  of  mak- 
ing cheese  and  butter,  or  astonish  him  with  his  profound  know- 
ledge of  manures,  or  the  food  of  plants.  As  to  national  cha- 
racter, and  individual  character,  few  men  could  say  more  to 
the  purpose,  as  far  as  history  and  acute  personal  observation 
would  carry  him.  He  had  wit  at  will.  Always  ample,  some- 
times redundant.” 

From  the  consideration  of  the  finer , w7e  will  take  a glance 
at  the  grosser  material,  which  the  artist  employed  to  represent 
mind,  as  well  as  body,  on  hispannel  or  his  canvas.  And  first 
his  palette. 

A painter’s  palette  is  either  the  piece  of  wood  with  a hole  in 
it  for  his  thumb  and  a convenient  recess  for  his  brushes,  or  it 
is  the  colours  with  which  this  utensil  is  furnished,  or  such  pig- 
ments as  his  knowledge  and  taste  induce  him  to  use.  The 
word  taste  probably  indicates  the  origin  of  the  name  given  to 
this  necessary  piece  of  limning  furniture,  and  to  the  tints,  with 
which  the  artist  covers  it. 


192 


Stuart's  palette. 

Stuart’s  palette,  (in  the  sense  we  have  first  used  the  word,) 
was  a small  oval.  Showing  it  on  one  occasion  to  the  writer, 
he  said,  that  he  valued  it  highly  as  having  belonged  to  Dance, 
and  still  more*  that  it  was  a present  from  that  excellent  artist. 

Speaking  on  the  same  subject  to  Mr.  Charles  Fraser, 
Stuart  said,  that  a short  time  after  he  had  taken  rooms,  in 
London,  subsequent  to  leaving  Mr.  West,  when  he  was  com- 
mencing his  successful  career  as  a portrait-painter,  Mr.  Dance 
(whose  approbation  and  advice  we  have  above  mentioned,) 
called  upon  him  and  communicated  his  intention  of  retiring 
into  the  country,  at  the  same  time  inviting  him  to  come  to  his 
house,  and  take  such  articles  in  the  way  of  his  profession  as 
would  be  serviceable  to  him* — that  as  he  was  just  commencing, 
he  would  find  ready  at  his  hands  many  things  that  he  would 
have  occasion  for.  Stuart  happening  to  call  in  the  absence 
of  his  friend,  merely  took  a palette  and  a few  pencils.  Mr. 
Dance,  a day  or  two  before  the  sale  of  his  furniture,  inquired 
of  his  servant  if  Mr.  Stuart  had  been  there  ? And  being  inform- 
ed that  he  had,  and  of  the  moderation  he  had  shown  in  avail- 
ing himself  of  the  offer  made,  immediately  sent  him  a mass  of 
material  for  his  painting  room,  not  only  in  the  highest  degree 
Useful,  but  far  more  costly  than  his  finances  could  have  afford- 
ed at  that  time.  The  palette,  Mr.  Dance  afterward  informed 
him,  was  the  one  formerly  possessed  and  used  by  Hudson. 

“ Mr.  Stuart,”  says  Mr.  Fraser,  “ made  this  exhibitionof  his 
palette  doubly  interesting,  by  a short  dissertation  on  the  use  of 
It,  describing  the  colours  employed  by  him  for  portrait- 
painting, with  their  several  gradations.  This  was  done  at  my 
request  with  a readiness  and  freedom  characteristic  of  great 
liberality  and  kindness. 


* In  the  year  1813,  the  writer,  whcr  as  a youth  had  known  Stuart  in  London, 
from  1784  to  1787,  visited  Boston,  and  renewed  his  acquaintance  with  the  great 
portrait-painter.  On  one  occasion,  having  shown  him  a miniature  he  had  recently 
painted,  Stuart  advised  him  to  paint  in  oil,  adding,  “You  painted  in  oil  when  in 
London.”  “ Yes,  but  after  having  abandoned  the  pencil  for  twenty  years,  I 
found  it  easier  to  make  an  essay  with  water  colours  on  ivory,  and  in  little  than  to 
paint  portraits  in  large  with  oil.  I do  not  know  how  to  set  a palette.”  “ It  is 
very  simple,”  said  he,  “ I will  show  you  in  five  minutes,”  and  he  pointed  out  on 
his  own  palette  the  unmingled  colours,  and  their  tints  as  mixed  with  white  or 
each  other;  first,  and  nearest  the  thumb,  pure  white,  then  yellow,  vermilion, 
black  and  blue.  Then  followed  yellow  and  white  in  gradation ; vermilion  and 
white  in  gradations  ; black  and  yellow—  black  and  vermilion  ; black,  vermilion, 
and  white  in  several  gradations  ; black  and  white  ; and,  blue  and  white.  “ And 
for  finishing,  addjake  to  your  palette,  and  asphaltum.”  Later  in  life,  when  he 
lived  on. Fort-hill,-  Boston,  he  gave  me  another  setting  of  the  palette.  This  was 
in  1822.  I passed  the  morning  with  him,  and  sat  for  the  hands  of  Mr.  Perkins’s 
picture,  for  the  Atheneum,  of  which  he  was  the  munificent  endower.  The  pa- 
lette Stuart  then  worked  with,  as  he  pointed  it  out  to  me,  was  Antwerp  blue — 
Krem’s  white— vermilion — stone-oker—  lake- — Vandyke  brown,  mixed  with  one- 


The  supposed  cause  of  Stuart' s leaving  London.  193 

We  have  followed  Mr.  Stuart’s  eccentric  course  until  we 
have  brought  him  to  the  highest  seat  a portrait-painter  wishes 
to  fill — that  of  a fashionable  and  leading  artist  in  the  great  me- 
tropolis, where  portrait-painting  has  been  carried  to  its  highest 
perfection.  In  1784,  and  the  years  immediately  succeeding, 
I saw  the  half-lengths,  and  full-lengths  of  Stuart  occupying 
the  best  lights,  and  most  conspicuous  places  at  the  annual  ex- 
hibitions of  the  Royal  Academy. 

From  the  commencement  of  his  independent  establishment 
as  a portrait-painter  in  London,  success  attended  him;  but  lie 
was  a stranger  to  prudence.  He  lived  in  splendour,  and  was 
the  gayest  of  the  gay.  As  he  has  said  of  himself,  lie  was  a 
great  beau.  I cannot  assert,  but  feel  perfectly  convinced  that 
pecuniary  difficulties  induced  him  to  leave  London  for  Dublin, 
to  which  latter  city,  his  daughter,  Miss  Ann  Stewart,  in  a let- 
ter to  Mr.  James  Herring,  says  he  was  invited  by  the  Duke  of 
Rutland,  and  that  on  the  day  he  arrived,  the  duke  was  buried. 

There  is  every  reason  to  suppose  that  Stuart’s  total  want  of 
prudence,  or  extreme  negligence  and  extravagance,  had  placed 
him  in  that  situation,  which  induces  men 

“ To  do  such  deeds,  as  make  the  prosperous  man 
Lift  up  his  hands,  and  wonder  who  could  do  them  !” 

The  following  was  told  to  the  writer  by  Joel  Barlow,  who 
with  his  wife,  were  intimate  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  West,  and  re- 


third  burnt  umber — ivory  black.  The  tints  he  mixed  were  white  and  yellow — 
vermilion  and  white — white,  yellow,  and  vermilion — vermilion  and  lake — (each 
deeper  than  the  other,)  then  blue  and  white — black  and  yellow — black,  vermilion 
and  lake.  Asphaltum  in  finishing.  Let  us  here  add,  that  Reynolds  recom- 
mended for  the  first  and  second  sittings  of  a portrait,  only  white,  yellow,  vermi- 
lion, and  black,  for  the  flesh.  This,  of  course,  was  after  he  had  been  reconciled  to 
vermilion,  and  dismissed  the  lake  and  yellow,  which  he  once  substituted  for  it. 

When  I asked  Stuart  if  he  used  madder-lake,  his  reply  was,  “I  should  be  mad- 
der if  I did.”  This  was  merely  to  play  upon  the  word,  for  like  many  I have  known 
the  jack-o’lantern  of  a pun,  ora  witticism,  would  draw  him  from  the  straight  and 
firm  path.  “Good  woman,  I saw  a man  go  in  your  cellar — the  door  is  open.” 
“ What  does  he  want  there  1 — the  impudent  fellow.”  The  good  dame  runs  to 
her  cellar,  and  finds  the  vegetable  she  had  bought  for  pickling.  “ Mr.  Stuart,  this 
is  the  greatest  likeness  I ever  saw.”  “Draw  aside  that  curtain,  and  you  will  see 
a greater.”  “ There’s  no  picture  here  !”  “ But  there’s  a grater.”  In  the  same 

spirit,  he  would  make  himself  the  hero  of  a story,  purely  imaginary,  for  the  sake 
of  a quibble,  a point,  or  a pun.  Such  is  the  'following,  “When  I first  came  to 
England,  my  clothing  was  half  a century  behind  the  fashion,  and  I was  told, 
‘ Now  you  are  in  England,  you  must. dress  yourself  as  the  English  do.”  “Next 
morning  I presented  myself  with  my  stockings  drawn  over  my  shoes,  and  my 
waistcoat  over  my  coat.  Then  the  cry  was,  ‘ Boy,  are  you  mad  V ‘Youtoldme 
to  dress  as  the  English  do,  and  they  always  say, — put  on  your  shoes  and  stockings 
— put  on  your  coat  and  waistcoat — sol  have  followed  the  direction.”  He  has 
even  told  this  as  happening  in  Mr.  West’s  house.  Such  are  the  wanderings  of 
wit.  But  of  a departure  from  truth  for  any  purpose  of  injuring  the  character  of 
another,  we  never  heard  Gilbert  Stuart  accused  men  of  supposed  honour  have 
done  it — yet  truth  is  iudispensable  to  honour. 

25 


194 


The  Irish  nobility  imprisoned. 


ceived  the  anecdote  from  them.  As  it  is  my  maxim,  that  bio- 
graphy should  be  truth,  and  every  man  who  calls  public  atten- 
tion to  himself,  should  be  truly  represented,  and  thus  abide  the 
reward  ofhis  actions;  that  which  comes  to  the  writer’s  knowledge 
respecting  the  subject  whose  life  and  character  is  under  con- 
sideration, and  is  probable  from  circumstances  connected  with 
the  individual,  known  to  be  true,  should  be  laid  before  the 
public,  the  authority  for  the  related  circumstance  being  given. 
When  biography  is  mere  eulogium,  it  must  be,  generally  speak- 
ing, falsehood  ; unless  the  subject  is  more  than  mortal.  It  was 
in  the  year  1806,  in  the  city  of  Washington,  that,  when  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barlow  at  their  lodgings,  he  showed  me  the 
proof  impressions  of  the  plates,  which  Robert  Fulton  had  pro- 
cured to  be  engraved  for  the  Columbiad.  Conversation  on 
pictures,  led  to  painters,  and  Barlow  gave  the  following  from 
Mr.  West.  He  said  that  Stuart,  professing  great  esteem  and 
much  gratitude  towards  Mr.  and  Mrs.  West,  (which  no  doubt 
he  felt,)  painted  a very  fine  portrait  of  the  former,  and  present- 
ed it  to  the  latter.  The  picture  was  much  admired  and  highly 
valued.  Not  long  before  leaving  England,  Stuart  borrowed 
the  picture  from  Mrs.  West,  to  make  some  suggested  altera- 
tions, and  it  was  sent  to  him.  The  reader  may  judge  of  Mr. 
West’s  surprise,  when  he  saw  this  picture  at  Alderman  Boy- 
dell’s,  and  was  told  that  Stuart  had  sold  it  to  him.  West  claim- 
ed his  property,  and  Boydell  lost  his  money.  From  London, 
Stuart,  as  we  have  seen,  went  to  Dublin,  and  it  is  probable  that 
English  claims  followed  him  to  the  capital  of  Ireland.  It  was 
currently  said,  but  I can  give  no  voucher  except  probability, 
that,  being  lodged  in  jail  by  some  ofhis  creditors,  he  there  set 
up  his  esel,  and  was  followed  by  those  who  wanted  portraits 
from  his  hand.  He  began  the  pictures  of  a great  many  nobles, 
and  men  of  wealth  and  fashion,  received  half  price  at  the  first 
sitting,  accumulated  enough  to  enfranchise  himself,  and  left  the 
Irish  lordships  and  gentry  imprisoned  in  effigy.  We  will  sup- 
pose, that  having  thus  liberated  himself,  and  there  being  no 
law  that  would  justify  the  jailer  in  holding  the  half-finished 
peers  in  prison,  the  painter  fulfilled  his  engagement  more  at  his 
ease  at  his  own  house,  and  in  the  bosom  ofhis  own  family ; and 
it  is  probable  that  the  Irish  gentlemen  laughed  heartily  at  the 
trick,  and  willingly  paid  the  remainder  of  the  price.  It  is 
likewise  probable  that  when  Stuart  borrowed  the  full-length  of 
West,  he  borrowed  it  only  to  improve  it ; and  when  he  sold  it 
to  Boydell  that  he  meant  to  replace  it  with  another— -this  is  no 
excuse,  for  no  circumstance  or  intention  can  excuse  falsehood. 

Previous  to  leaving  England,  Mr.  Stuart  married  the 


Stuart  returns  to  America. 


195 


daughter  of  Doctor  Coates.  This  event  according  to  Miss 
Stuart,  took  place  in  1 786.  She  says,  he  arrived  in  Dublin  in 
1788,  and  notwithstanding  the  loss  of  his  friendly  inviter,  he 
met  with  great  success,  “painted  most  of  the  nobility , and  liv- 
ed in  a good  deal  of  splendour.  The  love  for  his  own  country, 
and  his  admiration  of  General  Washington,  and  the  very  great 
desire  he  had  to  paint  his  portrait,  was  his  only  inducement  to 
turn  his  back  on  his  good  fortune  in  Europe.” 

In  the  London  Magazine,  it  is  said,  that  Stuart  made  a 
sketch  of  the  celebrated  Mr.  Henderson,  in  the  character  of 
Iago,  which  was  engraved  by  Bartolozzi. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Mr.  Stuart  returns  to  America  in  1793— sets  up  his  esel  in  New-York — removes 
to  Philadelphia — Great  portrait  of  Washington— Mr.  Neagle’s  communication 
respecting  the  original  Washington  portrait—' Winstanley  and  his  Washingtons 
— Anecdotes  of  similar  impositions — History  of  the  Landsdown  Washington, 
and  Heath’s  vile  print  from  it — Jealousy  of  other  artists  on  seeing  Stuart’s 
success  with  the  portrait  of  Washington. 

In  the  year  1793  Mr.  Stuart  embarked  for  his  return  to  his 
native  country,  and  had  for  his  companion  an  Irish  gentleman 
of  the  name  of  Robertson,  a miniature  painter  elsewhere  no- 
ticed in  these  pages.  It  is  well  known  that  Stuart’s  passions 
and  appetites  were  of  the  kind  said  to  be  uncontrollable- — that 
is,  they  were  indulged  when  present  danger  or  inconvenience 
did  not  forbid — as  is  the  case  with  all  men  who  plead  temper 
as  an  excuse  for  folly.  On  the  passage  from  Dublin  to  New- 
York,  he  frequently  quarrelled  with  Robertson,  and  when  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  devil  who  steals  men’s  brains  if  per- 
mitted to  enter  their  mouths,  he  insulted  the  Hibernian  grossly. 
To  stop  this,  Robertson  left  the  dinner-table,  after  receiving 
his  share  of  the  wine,  and  what  he  thought  an  undue  share  of 
hard  words,  and  going  to  his  trunk  returned  with  a brace  of 
pistols  loaded  and  primed,  and  insisted  upon  an  apology  or  a 
shot  across  the  table.  The  devil  was  put  to  flight,  and  return- 
ing reason,  the  captain’s  good  offices,  and  the  peace-maker 
“ if,”  restored  harmony  for  the  rest  of  the  voyage. 

Stuart  landed  at  and  took  up  his  abode  for  some  months  in 
New-York.  Here  he  favoured  the  renowned,  the  rich,  and  the 
fashionable,  by  exercising  his  skill  for  their  gratification  ; and 
gave  present  eclat  and  a short-lived  immortality  in  exchange 
for  a portion  of  their  wealth.  He  opened  an  altdier  in  Stone- 
street,  near  William-street,  where  all  who  admired  the  art  or 


196 


Stuart  removes  to  Philadelphia. 

wished  to  avail  themselves  of  the  artist’s  talents,  daily  resort- 
ed. It  appeared  to  the  writer  as  if  he  had  never  seen  portraits 
before,  so  decidedly  was  form  and  mind  conveyed  to  the  can- 
vas ; and  yet  Stuart’s  portraits  were  incomparably  better,  ten, 
twenty,  and  thirty  years  after.  Many  of  his  portraits  were 
copied  in  miniature  by  Walter  Robertson,  who  had  come  to 
America  with  him,  and  who,  to  distinguish  him  from  the  art- 
ists of  the  same  patronymic  appellation,  was  called  Irish  Rob- 
ertson. Some  of  this  gentleman’s  celebrity  was  owing  to  the 
accuracy  of  Stuart’s  portraits  ; for  the  ignorant  in  the  art 
transfer  without  hesitation  the  merit  of  the  original  painter  to 
the  copyist. 

In  New-York,  as  elsewhere,  the  talents  and  acquirements 
of  Mr.  Stuart  introduced  him  to  the  intimate  society  of  all  who 
were  distinguished  by  office,  rank  or  attainment ; and  his  ob- 
serving mind  and  powerful  memory  treasured  up  events,  cha- 
racters and  anecdotes,  which  rendered  his  conversation  an  in- 
exhaustible fund  of  amusement  and  information  to  his  sitters, 
and  his  companions.  Of  the  many  fine  portraits  he  painted  at 
this  time  we  remember  more  particularly  those  of  the  Pollock 
and  Yates  family  ; Sir  John  Temple,  and  some  of  his  family  ; 
the  Hon.  John  Jay  ; General  Matthew  Clarkson  ; John  R. 
Murray,  and  Colonel  Giles. 

From  New-York  the  artist  proceeded  to  Philadelphia,  for 
the  purpose,  so  near  his  heart,  of  painting  a portrait  of  Wash- 
ington. In  this  he  succeeded  fully  : but  this  is  an  event  in  his 
life  on  which  we  must  enlarge  in  proportion  to  its  interest 
with  us  and  all  Americans.  Jt  is  needless  to  say  that  the  art- 
ist’s pencil  was  kept  in  constant  employ  in  the  city  of  Penn 
and  its  neighbourhood.  He  attracted  the  same  attention,  and 
rendered  the  same  services,  enriching  individuals  by  his  gra- 
phic skill  with  pictures  beyond  price,  and  his  country  by  models 
for  future  painters  to  study.  He  left  us  the  features  of  those 
who  have  achieved  immortality  for  themselves,  and  made 
known  others  who  would  but  for  his  art  have  slept  in  their  me- 
rited obscurity. 

Mr.  Stuart  took  to  Philadelphia  a letter  from  the  Hon.  John 
Jay  to  the  first  president  of  the  United  States,  the  illustrious 
Washington.  The  reader  will  recollect  that  congress  had 
before  1794,  removed  from  New-York,  and  that  Philadelphia 
was  at  this  time  the  seat  of  federal  government.  Stuart  had 
long  been  familiar  with  the  aristocracy  of  Europe,  the  artificial 
great,  the  hereditary  lords  of  the  land,  and  rulers  of  the  des- 
tinies of  nations  ; but  it  appears  from  the  following  account 
of  his  first  introduction  to  Washington,  as  given  in  conversa- 


197 


Stuart's  Washington . 

lion  with  an  eminent  artist  of  our  country,  that,  although  at 
his  ease  with  dukes  and  princes,  Stuart  was  awed  into  a loss 
of  his  self-possession  in  the  presence  ofjiim,  who  was  ennobled 
by  his  actions,  and  placed  in  authority  by  the  gratitude  of  his 
fellow-citizens,  and  their  confidence  in  his  wisdom  and  virtues. 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  Philadelphia  Mr.  Stuart  called  on 
the  president,  and  left  Mr.  Jay’s  letter  and  his  own  card. 
Some  short  time  after,  having  passed  a day  hi  the  country, 
upon  his  return  he  found  a nojfe-from  Mr.  Dandridge,  the 
private  secretary,  inviting  him  to  pass  that  evening  with  the 
president.  He  went  accordingly,  and  on  entering  a large 
room,  (which  he  did  carelessly,  believing  it  to  be  an  anti- 
chamber,) he  did  not  distinguish  one  person  from  another  of 
the  company  he  found  there.  But  the  president,  from  a dis- 
tant corner  of  the  room,  left  a group  of  gentlemen,  w ith  whom 
he  had  been  conversing,  came  up  to  Mr.  Stuart  and  addressed 
him  by  name,  (probably  some  one  who  knew  Stuart  pointed 
him  out  to  the  president,)  and,  finding  his  guest  much  embar- 
rassed, he  entered  into  easy  conversation  with  him  until  he 
recovered  himself.  The  president  then  introduced  him  to  the 
company.  This  incident  I give  from  the  artist  to  whom  Stuart 
related  the  circumstance. 

In  this  year,  1794,  Stuart  painted  his  first  portrait  of  Wash- 
ington. Not  satisfied  with  the  expression,  he  destroyed  it, 
and  the  president  consented  to  sit  again.  In  the  second  por- 
trait he  was  eminently  successful.  He  painted  it  on  a three- 
quarter  canvas,  but  only  finished  the  head.  When  last  I saw 
this,  the  only  faithful  portrait  of  the  father  of  our  country,  it 
hung,  w ithout  frame,  on  the  door  of  the  artist’s  painting-room, 
at  his  house  on  Fort-hill,  Boston.  This  beautiful  image  of 
the  mind,  as  well  as  features  of  Washington,  was  offered  to  the 
state  of  Massachusetts,  by  the  artist,  for  one  thousand  dollars, 
which  they  refused  to  give.  Those  entrusted  with  our  national 
government  passed  by  the  opportunity  of  doing  honour  to 
themselves  during  the  life  of  a man  they  could  not  honour, 
and  the  only  portrait  of  Washington  was  left  neglected  in  the 
painter’s  work-shop,  until  the  Boston  Atheneum  purchased  it 
of  his  widow.  It  now  (together  with  its  companion  the  por- 
trait of  Mrs.  Washington)  adorns  one  of  the  rooms  of  that  in- 
stitution. 

Stuart  has  said  that  he  found  more  difficulty  attending  the 
attempt  to  express  the  character  of  Washington  on  his  canvas 
than  in  any  of  his  efforts  before  or  since.  It  is  known  that  by 
his  colloquial  powers,  he  could  draw  out  the  minds  of  his 
sitters  upon  that  surface  he  was  tasked  to  represent ; and  such 


198 


Heath's  libel  upon  Washington . 

was  always  his  aim.  But  Washington’s  mind  was  busied 
within.  During  the  sitting  for  the  first  mentioned  portrait, 
Stuart  could  not  find  a subject,  although  he  tried  many,  that 
could  elicit  the  expression  he  knew  must  accord  with  such 
features  and  such  a man.  He  was  more  fortunate  in  the  second 
attempt,  and  probably  not  only  had  more  self-possession,  but 
had  inspired  his  sitter  with  more  confidence  in  him,  and  a 
greater  disposition  to  familiar  conversation. 

During  his  residence  at  Philadelphia,  Mr.  Stuart  painted 
the  full-length  of  the  president,  for  Lord  Lansdown.  It  has 
been  said  that  his  lordship  was  indebted  to  the  persuasions  of 
Mrs.  Bingham,  of  Philadelphia,  for  this  favour.  This  picture 
is  in  England,  and  is  the  original  of  that  vile  engraving  from 
the  attelier  of  Heath,  which  is  unfortunately  spread  through- 
out our  country,  a libel  upon  Stuart  and  Washington.  Our 
fellow-citizen  Durand,  is  now  employed  in  engraving  from  the 
inestimable  portrait  possessed  by  the  Boston  Atheneum,  and 
the  citizens  of  the  United  States  will  have  an  opportunity  of 
knowing  from  his  print,  when  published,  how  they  have  been 
misled  in  their  ideas  of  the  countenance  of  the  man  they  most 
revere. 

Germantown  was  the  painter’s  place  of  residence  at  the 
period  Washington  retired  from  office,  and  he  rode  out  and 
visited  him  at  that  place — a spot  so  well  known  to  the  hero 
during  his  military  career.  When  the  president  took  his 
leave,  he  told  Stuart  that  he  would  sit  to  him  again  at  any 
time  he  wished.  None  but  those  who  know  how  much  this 
great  man  had  undergone  from  the  solicitations  of  painters, 
can  truly  appreciate  the  value  of  this  compliment  to  the  artist. 

The  following  communication  relative  to  the  portraits  of 
General  and  Mrs.  Washington,  is  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Neagle. 
After  saying  that  as  well  as  he  could  remember,  Stuart  rela- 
ted the  circumstances  nearly  in  these  words,  he  proceeds : 
“Mrs.  Washington  called  often  to  see  the  general’s  portrait, 
and  was  desirous  to  possess  the  painting.”  (This  was  the 
original  picture  of  which  the  head  only  was  finished,  and  from 
which  Stuart  made  his  copies.)  “ One  day  she  called  with 
her  husband,  and  begged  to  know  when  she  might  have  it. 
The  general  himself  never  pressed  it,  but  on  this  occasion,  as 
he  and  his  lady  were  about  to  retire,  he  returned  to  Mr.  Stuart 
and  said  he  saw  plainly  of  what  advantage  the  picture  was  to 
the  painter,  (who  had  been  constantly  employed  in  copying 
it,  and  Stuart  had  said  he  could  not  work  so  well  from 
another ;)  he  therefore  begged  the  artist  to  retain  the  painting 
at  his  pleasure.  Mr.  Stuart  told  me  one  day  when  we  were 


L99 


A painter’s  rights  in  his  works. 

before  this  original  portrait,  that  he  never  could  make  a copy 
of  it  to  satisfy  himself,  and  that  at  last,  having  made  so  many, 
he  worked  mechanically  and  with  little  interest.  The  last 
one  I believe  ever  made  by  him,  was  for  Mr.  Robert  Gilmor, 
of  Baltimore.  I asked  him  if  he  ever  intended  to  finish  the 
coat  and  back-ground  of  the  original  picture?  To  this  he  re- 
plied, ‘ No  : and  as  this  is  the  only  legacy  I can  leave  to  my 
family,  I will  let  it  remain  untouched.’  ” (Meaning  that  it 
would  be,  as  is  true,  more  valuable  as  it  came  from  his  hand 
in  the  presence  of  the  sitter,  than  it  would  be  if  painted  upon 
at  this  late  period  ; for  by  painting  upon , it  would  be  more  or 
less  altered.) 

“ Mr.  Stuart”  (we  again  copy  Mr.  Neagle,)  “ consider- 
ed that  every  painter  held  an  inherent  copy-right  in  his 
own  works,  and  that  they  should  not  be  copied  without  the 
consent  of  the  artist.  A copy  made  of  an  artist’s  picture 
while  he  lived,  and  without  his  consent,  he  called  ‘ pirating.’ 
A portrait-painter  of  the  name  of  Parker  had  applied  to  the 
Pennsylvania  academy  for  the  privilege  to  copy  Stuart’s  full- 
length  of  Washington,  which  is  on  the  walls  of  that  institu- 
tion ; but  as  the  picture  belonged  to  the  estate  of  Mrs.  Bing- 
ham, the  application  was  refused  by  Mr.  Hopkinson,  the  pre- 
sident of  the  academy.  Mr.  Sully  was  consulted,  and  he 
thought  that  Mr.  Stuart’s  permission  should  first  be  obtained. 
When  I arrived  in  Boston,  (in  1825,)  Mr.  Stuart  had  just  re- 
ceived a letter  from  Mr.  Parker,  and  handed  it  to  me  to  read 
aloud  to  him.  It  was  an  application  to  him  for  the  opportu- 
nity of  copying  the  full-length  Washington,  but  it  was  couch- 
ed in  terms  that  offended  the  painter.  He  made  some  severe 
remarks  upon  the  writer ; among  other  things  he  said,  4 If 
I am  not  much  mistaken,  this  man  has  not  the  essentially  re- 
quisite feelings  for  a good  artist.’  His  reply  he  entrusted  to 
me  for  Mr.  Hopkinson,  the  president  of  the  academy.  It  was 
a denial.  He  said,  ‘ I am  pleased  that  Mr.  Hopkinson  has 
referred  the  question  to  me,  it  is  what  [ would  expect  from 
him.  My  answer  will  be  found  in  a number  of  the  Spec- 
tator, mentioning  it,  and  my  feelings  understood,  by  referring 
to  that  paper:  the  only  difference  is,  that  Addison  speaks  of 
pirating  the  works  of  an  author.  Substitute  for  author  the 
word  painter .’  One  Sunday  morning  Mr.  Stuart  opened  the 
Spectator  whileMr.  George  Brimmer,  Mr.  Isaac  P.  Davis  and 
myself  were  with  him,  and  had  this  paper  read  aloud.” 

With  a knowledge  of  such  feelings  and  opinions,  the  reader 
may  judge  of  the  painter’s  reception  of  a proposal  made  in  the 
following  manner : “ When  1 lived  at  Germantown,”  said 


200 


The  last  touch . 


Stuart,  “ a little,  pert  young  man  called  on  me,  and  addressed 
me  thus, — You  are  Mr.  Stuart,  sir,  the  great  painter  !’  ‘ My 
name  is  Stuart,  sir.’  ” Those  who  remember  Mr.  Stuart’s 
athletic  figure,  quiet  manner,  sarcastic  humour,  and  uncom- 
mon face,  can  alone  imagine  the  picture  he  would  have  made 
as  the  intruder  proceeded  : — “ ‘ My  name  is  Winstanley,  sir ; 
you  must  have  heard  of  me.’  ‘Not  that  I recollect,  sir,’  * No! 
Well,  Mr.  Stuart,  I have  been  copying  your  full-length  of 
Washington ; I have  made  a number  of  copies ; I have  now 
six  that  I have  brought  on  to  Philadelphia  ; I have  got  a room 
in  the  state-house,  and  I have  put  them  up  ; but  before  I show 
them  to  the  public,  and  offer  them  for  sale,  I have  a proposal 
to  make  to  you.’  ‘ Go  on,  sir.’  ‘ It  would  enhance  their  value, 
you  know,  if  1 could  say  that  you  had  given  them  the  last 
touch.  Now,  sir,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  ride  to  town,  and 
give  each  of  them  a tap,  you  know,  with  your  riding-switch 
—just  thus,  you  know.’  ” 

Stuart,  who  had  been  feeding  his  capacious  nostrils  with 
Scotch  snuff,  shut  the  box,  and  deliberately  placed  it  on  the 
table.  Winstanley  proceeded,  “ ‘ And  we  will  share  the  amount 
of  the  sale.’  ‘ Did  you  ever  hear  that  I was  a swindler  ?’  ‘ Sir  ! 
— Oh,  you  mistake.  You  know — -’  The  painter  rose  to  his 
full  height.  4 You  will  please  to  walk  down  stairs,  sir,  very 
quickly,  or  I shall  throw  you  out  at  the  window.’  ” The 
genius  would  have  added  another  “you  know;”  but  seeing 
that  the  action  was  likely  to  be  suited  to  the  word,  he  took  the 
hint,  and  preferred  the  stairs. 

Stuart  continued  the  story  of  Winstanley  and  his  Washing- 
tons, by  saying,  that  one  of  these  pirated  copies  was  the  cause 
of  his  being  employed  to  paint  the  full-length  of  Washington, 
which  adorns  Faneuil-hall  : a picture  which,  in  my  opinion, 
speaking  from  recollection,  is  the  best  portrait  of  the  hero, 
with  the  exception  of  the  head  purchased  by  the  Atheneum, 
ever  painted.  If  so,  Boston  possesses  in  her  public  buildings, 
the  two  most  perfect  representations  of  the  father  of  his  coun- 
try that  are  in  existence.  Stuart  told  our  friend  Fraser  that  he 
painted  this  picture  in  nine  days.  Certainly,  it  is  in  one  sense, 
a nine  days’  wonder.  The  circumstances  which  led  to  it  he 
thus  narrated,  after  telling  the  anecdote  of  Winstanley’s  visit 
to  Germantown. 

“ One  of  these  full-length  Washingtons,  which  only  wanted 
a magic  touch  from  my  finger,  my  maul-stick,  or  my  riding- 
whip,  was  brought  to  Boston  by  the  manufacturer,  who  like- 
wise brought  letters  of  introduction  to  our  great  men,  and 
among  others  to  Mr,  , a rich  merchant  and  devoted 


201 


Democrats  and  federalists. 

federalist,  it  being  then  warm  party  times.  In  this  gentle- 
man’s family  and  society  the  little  Englishman  made  himself 
agreeable  to  such  a degree,  that  he  borrowed  five  hundred 
dollars  of  the  merchant,  offering  as  security  my  full-length  por- 
trait of  Washington  painted  by  himself,  as  you  may  suppose  ; 
but  that  could  not  be  seen  by  the  connoisseur  of  the  counting- 
house.  The  money  was  lent,  the  picture  received  as  security, 
and  the  swindler  never  seen  more.  After  a time  the  precious 
deposit  was  offered  for  sale,  as  Stuart’s  Washington.  The 
real  connoisseurs  laughed,  and  the  merchant  found  he  was  bit. 
It  would  not  do  for  the  Boston  market,  so  he  sent  it  by  one 
of  his  argosies  to  foreign  parts,  but  it  returned  again  and 
again  unsold,  and,  like  some  other  travellers,  unimproved.  It 
would  not  pass  for  Stuart’s  Washington  with  any  one  but 
himself.  At  length,  he  determined  to  show  his  patriotism  and 
present  it  to  the  town,  which  was  done  in  all  due  form.  In 
the  mean  time  I had  removed  to  this  place,  (Boston.)  The 
picture  had  been  put  up  in  Faneuil-hall.  A town  meeting 
had  been  called  on  political  affairs,  and  federalists  and  demo- 
crats were  arrayed  in  bitter  hostility  in  the  hall,  when  one  of 
the  democratic  orators  seized  on  the  opportunity  for  attacking 
his  opponents,  by  exposing  the  mock  generosity  of  the  federal 
merchant,  and  to  the  great  amusement  of  the  audience,  told 
the  story  of  the  picture,  exposed  its  worthlessness,  and  related 
its  adventures.  The  effect  was  electrical,  and  spread  through 
the  town.  The  connoisseur  was  pointed  at  and  almost  hooted 
by  the  boys.  What  was  to  be  done  ? His.friends  suggested 
his  defence,  ‘ He  had  been  deceived,  he  thought  it  a real  Simon- 
pure.  There  was  no  crime  in  not  being  a judge  of  painting, 
and  to  show  his  generosity,  he  must  apply  to  Stuart  to  paint  a 
Washington  for  the  town.’  This  was  a bitter  pill.  ‘ How 
much  would  it  cost  ?’  ‘ Six  hundred  dollars  perhaps.’  ‘ Five 

and  six  are  eleven.5  ‘ Something  must  be  done,  and  quickly.’ 

‘ But  how  can  I call  on  Mr.  Stuart  after  this  affair — he  may 
insult  me.’  ‘ We  will  negotiate  the  matter.’  I was  called  upon 
by  Mr. ’s  friends,  and  to  the  proposal  answered,  ‘ Cer- 

tainly, gentlemen.’  ‘ Will  you  do  it  immediately  ?’  ‘Immediate- 
ly.’ ‘The  price?’  ‘Six  hundred  dollars.’  It  was  agreed 
upon,  and  in  a few  weeks  the  picture  took  its  place  in  the 
Town-house,  and  the  merchant  paid  me  in  uncurrent  bank- 
notes, which  1 had  to  send  to  a broker  to  be  exchanged,  I pay- 
ing the  discount.’  ” This  we  give  as  a Stuart  story.  All  we 
vouch  for  is,  that  he  told  it  without  reserve. 

Another  of  Winstanley’s  surreptitious  full-length  Washing- 
tons long  disgraced  the  president’s  house  at  the  city  of  Wash- 

26 


202  Winstanley  and  Mr.  Wm.  Laing. 

ington.  The  story  is  worth  telling,  and  belongs  to  our  sub- 
ject. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  first  full-length  of  his  illustrious 
subject  which  the  great  artist  painted,  was  sent  to  Lord  Lans- 
down.  The  second  was  painted  for  Mr.  Gardner  Baker,  of 
New-York,  for  his  museum.  The  third  for  Mr.  Constable — 
which  is  now  at  Mr.  Pierpont’s,  at  Brooklyn. 

Mr.  Baker  in  the  course  of  business  became  the  debtor  of 
Mr.  Wm.  Laing,  who,  in  process  of  time,  received  the  second 
picture  in  payment.  Mr.  Laing  being  in  the  metropolis  when 
the  president’s  house  was  being  furnished,  suggested  the  ap- 
propriateness of  such  a picture  as  he  possessed,  for  such  a 
place,  and  eventually  sold  the  portrait  to  the  committee  who 
directed  the  business.  Unfortunately  only  knowing  Winstan- 
ley as  a painter,  he  sent  to  him  a commission  for  packing  up 
and  shipping  the  original  Stuart.  Winstanley  received  it, 
and  packed  up  one  of  his  copies  instead,  which  was  unsuspect- 
ingly received  and  put  up  in  the  palace.  This  cheat  was  not 
discovered  until  after  Stuart  removed  to  the  city  of  Washing- 
ton, when  he  at  a glance,  saw  that  the  picture  was  not  from 
his  pencil  and  disclaimed  it.  In  the  meantime  the  rogue  had 
returned  home  with  his  prize,  and  Mr.  Laing,  after  making 
every  effort  to  regain  the  picture,  refunded  the  money.  A similar 
trick  was  played  by  a Frenchman,  in  respect  to  one  of  the  first 
portraits  Stuart  painted  on  his  return  to  America.  The  picture 
was  that  of  Doctor  Johnson,  president  of  Columbia  college, 
which  having  been  left  with  one  of  his  sons,  this  Frenchman, 
known  to  the  son  as  a painter,  solicited  the  loan  of  this  very  fine 
portrait  as  a study.  Mr.  Johnson  complied,  and  the  picture 
was  detained  for  a long  time  ; at  length  a copy  was  sent  which 
deceived  Mr.  Johnson,  and  the  swindler  kept  the  original. 
Fortunately  for  the  family  and  for  justice,  Mr.  David  Long- 
worth,  a liberal  publisher  and  friend  of  the  arts,  discovered  that 
the  original  Stuart  remained  with  the  Frenchman,  who  had 
removed  to  Boston,  and  after  some  difficulty  succeeded,  pro- 
bably by  threats,  in  gaining  possession  of  the  picture,  and 
sent  it  to  Doctor  Johnson,  with  a letter  congratulating  him  on 
the  recovery.* 

These  anecdotes  will  remind  the  reader  (who  reads  such 
things,)  of  the  story  told  by  Roscoe  in  his  Catalogue  published 
in  1816,  of  an  imposition  practised  by  one  of  the  Medici  upon 
the  Duke  of  Mantua,  who  had  obtained  from  the  pope,  Clement 
VII.,  a gift  of  Raffeale’s  portrait  of  Leo  X.,  then  at  Florence, 

* This  anecdote  comes  from  Wm.  S.  Johnson,  Esq.,  a grandson  of  the  venera- 
ted Doctor. 


203 


Heath's  engraving  of  Washington. 

and  ordered  it  to  be  sent  to  Mantua.  The  Florentine  Medici 
instead  of  so  doing,  sent  for  Andrea  del  Sarto,  and  employed 
him  to  make  a copy,  which  done,  he  held  the  original  and  sent 
the  copy  to  the  amateur  duke.  The  story  of  the  deception 
is  worth  attention,  and  will  be  found  as  above,  and  in  the  Life 
of  Roscoe  by  his  son.  Here  it  was  not  the  painter  that  was 
the  rogue,  but  the  proprietor;  and  another  dissimilarity  is, 
that  the  copy  was  pronounced  as  good  as  the  original. 

In  connection  with  the  portrait  of  Washington,  and  in  eluci- 
dation of  the  character  of  Mr.  Stuart,  we  here  mention  another 
circumstance.  After  the  painter  removed  to  Boston,  the  Penn- 
sylvania Academy  of  Fine  Arts  appropriated  fifteen  hundred 
dollars  for  a portrait  of  the  hero.  Mr.  Hopkinson,  the  presi- 
dent, wrote  to  Mr.  Stuart  to  engage  the  picture  at  that  price, 
expecting,  of  course,  an  exertion  of  his  utmost  skill — and  the 
artist  never  answered  the  letter. 

The  following  is  the  history  of  the  picture  of  Washington, 
painted  for  Lord  Lansdown,  and  the  print  published  from  it 
by  Heath,  as  given  by  the  painter  to  Mr.  Neagle.  “ The 
marquis  gave  Mr.  Stuart  a commission  to  paint  for  him  a 
full  length,  to  be  sent  to  London.  When  the  picture  was 
nearly  finished,  Mr.  Bingham,  a rich  man  of  Philadelphia, 
waited  upon  Mr.  Stuart,  and  begged  as  a favour,  that  he 
might  be  allowed  the  honour  of  paying  for  the  picture,  and 
presenting  it  to  the  marquis.  Mr.  Stuart,  after  taking  time 
for  deliberation,  consented.  He  said  that  he  gave  his  consent, 
thinking  that  the  marquis  would  be  gratified  by  the  compli- 
ment, but  he  requested  Mr.  Bingham  to  secure  a copy-right 
for  him.  When  the  picture  arrived  in  England  it  attracted 
general  attention,  and  Mr.  Heath,  the  engraver,  was  not  slow 
to  perceive  the  advantage  that  might  accrue  to  himself  by 
publishing  a print  from  it;  which  he  did,  with  the  consent  of 
the  marquis,  who  observed  at  the  time,  that  Mr.  Stuart  would 
be  highly  gratified  by  having  his  work  copied  by  an  artist  of 
such  distinguished  ability.” 

Accordingly  the  engraving  was  announced  in  London, 
with  the  usual  puffs ; stating  that  the  picture  is  in  the 
possession  of  the  Marquis  of  Lansdown  ; is  “ the  produc- 
tion of  that  very  excellent  portrait-painter  Gabriel  Stuartt,  a 
native  of  America,”  and  an  eleve  of  Benjamin  West,  Esq* 
To  introduce  the  eulogium  on  the  engraving,  of  this  execra- 
ble libel,  on  the  countenance  of  Washington,  so  different  from 
Stuart’s  pictures,  praise  is  first  lavished  on  the  painter.  “ His 
pencil  has  a freedom  that  is  unaffected ; his  colouring  is  clear 
without  glare,  and  chaste  without  monotony;  his  style  of 


204  Stuart  deprived  of  his  property. 

composition  is  animated,  yet  simple,  and  he  has  the  happy 
facility  of  embodying  the  mind,  as  strongly  as  he  identifies 
the  person.’  After  much  more,  4 puff  direct’  goes  on  to  say, 
44  The  engraving  of  this  portrait  is  the  work  of  that  very 
excellent  artist,  Mr.  James  Heath,  historical  engraver  to  the 
king,  and  one  of  the  six  associate  engravers  to  the  royal 
academy.”  The  conclusion  of  the  advertisement  announces 
44  that  Mr.  Heath  is  joint  proprietor  of  this  portrait,  with  the 
Messrs.  Boydell  and  Thompson.”  Those  who  know  how 
tenacious  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  and  other  English  painters 
are,  of  their  right  in  their  pictures,  and  the  sums  demanded 
for  permission  to  engrave  them,  may  judge  of  the  feelings  of 
Stuart,  when  he  saw  himself  excluded  from  this  partnership  in 
his  property.  Mr.  Neagle  proceeds  thus  : 

44  Mr.  Bingham  had  not  made  it  a condition  with  the  marquis 
that  a copy-right  should  be  secured  for  the  benefit  of  the 
painter ; indeed  he  never  mentioned  Mr.  Stuart’s  wish,  intend- 
ing by  the  next  vessel,  to  beg  this  provision  for  the  painter’s 
benefit,  as  an  after  thought,  which  would  not  appear  to  lessen 
the  value  of  the  present.  But  this  proved  too  late  for  poor 
Stuart.  When  the  next  vessel  arrived,  Heath  had  made  his 
copy  under  the  sanction  of  the  owner,  and  his  design  was 
already  on  the  copper.  The  matter,  however,  was  never 
broached  to  Stuart,  and  he  told  me  that  the  first  he  knew  of  it 
was  in  Mr.  Dobson’s  book-store,  in  Second-street,  Philadel- 
phia. He  was  unknown  to  Mr.  Dobson,  but  was  in  the  habit 
of  frequenting  the  store  and  purchasing  books,  paper,  and 
pencils.  On  one  occasion,  when  calling  as  usual,  Mr.  Dob- 
son having  just  received  a box  of  these  finished  engravings,  for 
sale  on  commission,  opened  it,  and  showed  Stuart  an  impres- 
sion from  Mr.  Heath’s  plate  ; this  was  the  first  intimation  he 
had  of  the  unwelcome  fact,  that  his  prospects  of  advantage 
from  a copy-right  were  annihilated,  and  the  fruits  of  his 
labours  snatched  from  him  by  one  who  had  no  share  in  his 
enterprise,  or  claims  whatever  upon  that  which  he  had  invent- 
ed and  executed.  He  was  unable  to  answer  Mr.  Dobson’s 
questions  respecting  the  merit  of  the  engraving  and  the 
prospects  of  sale ; but  when  he  recovered  himself,  he  replied, 
4 Sir,  the  work  is  as  infamous  in  its  execution  as  the  motive 
that  led  to  it.’  4 What,’  said  Dobson,  4 have  you  the  feel- 
ings of  an  American?  What!  Do  you  not  respect  the  man 
here  represented,  nor  the  talents  of  the  American  painter  who 
executed  the  original  picture  ? What  would  Mr.  Stuart 
say  if  he  heard  you  speak  thus  ?’  4 It  has  been  my  custom,’ 

replied  Stuart,  4 to  speak  the  language  of  plainness  and 


Jealousy  of  other  painters.  205 

truth,  whenever  the  character  and  fortune  of  any  man  are 
thus  jeopardized.  By  this  act,  the  family  of  the  painter  is 
ruined.  My  name  is  Stuart.  I am  the  painter,  and  have  a 
right  to  speak.’  He  then  related  the  whole  transaction  to 
Mr.  Dobson,  who  returned  the  prints  to  the  box,  nailed  it  up, 
and  was  never  known  to  sell,  or  offer  for  sale,  one  of  those 
engravings,  (and  as  I understood  Mr.  Stuart,)  or  any  other 
engraved  head  of  Washington,  from  his  work. 

“ Mr.  Stuart  waited  upon  Mr.  Bingham,  by  advice,  to  ob- 
tain justice,  but  in  vain.  They  quarrelled,  and  the  painter 
left  unfinished  painting  that  he  had  commenced  for  the  Bing- 
ham family.  I saw  one  beautifully  painted  head  of  Mrs. 
Bingham,  on  a kit  cat  lead  coloured  canvass  with  nothing 
but  the  head  finished.  The  rest  was  untouched.” 

Such  is  Mr.  Stuart’s  history  of  Heath’s  print  of  Washington. 
That  “ the  work  is  infamous,”  as  it  respects  the  representa- 
tion of  Stuart’s  picture  or  Washington’s  physiognomy,  is 
most  true,  and  “ true  ’tis  pity,  and  pity  ’tis,  ’tis  true this, 
and  other  vile  libels  upon  the  countenance  of  the  father  of  his 
country  are  spread  over  the  land,  leaving  such  impressions 
as  will  make  those  who  see  the  original  portrait  by  Gilbert 
Stuart  think  they  look  upon  the  face  of  a stranger. 

The  success  of  Stuart’s  Washington,  and  the  generally 
received  opinion  that  he  alone  had  represented  the  hero  truly 
on  canvas,  was  a sore  mortification  to  those  painters  who 
had  preceded  him.  We  have  seen  the  president  of  an 
academy,  when  surrounded  by  the  directors,  stand  before  a 
full-length  Washington,  by  Stuart,  and  after  pointing  out  to 
these  gentlemen,  all  worthy  physicians,  lawyers,  or  merchants 
what  he  considered,  or  called,  the  defects,  he  has  literally  to 
show  his  contempt,  drawn  the  stick  he  held  in  his  hand,  here 
and  there  over  the  surface,  and  concluded  by  saying,  “ It  is 
like  a little  old  French  marquis  more  than  Washington.”  On 
another  occasion,  when  sitting  to  a young  artist  for  his  por- 
trait, the  subject  of  Stuart’s  picture  of  the  first  president 
being  introduced,  he  gave  this  version  of  the  story.  “ Mr. 

Stuart’s  conversation  could  not  interest  General  Washington 

he  had  no  topic  fitted  for  his  character — the  president  did  not 
relish  his  manners.  When  he  sat  to  me  he  was  at  his  ease.” 
This  was  to  confirm  the  previously  advanced  opinion,  that 
Stuart’s  picture  of  Washington  did  not  represent  the  hero’s 
character. 

On  this  subject  we  quote  the  opinion  of  a greater  artist. 
Charles  R.  Leslie  says,  after  praising  Stuart’s  portrait  of  Al- 
derman Boydell,  and  the  full-length  of  Washington,  painted 


206 


Family  'painting . 

for  the  Marquis  Lansdown,  44  How  fortunate  it  was  that  a 
painter  existed  in  the  time  of  Washington,  who  could  hand 
him  down  to  us  looking  like  a gentleman.” 

Charles  Wilson  Peale  had  repeatedly  painted  him,  and  was 
mortified  to  find  his  efforts  forgotten  or  despised.  Stuart  has 
asserted,  that  it  was  at  his  request  that  General  Washington, 
after  sitting  to  him,  consented  to  sit  once  more  to  Mr.  Peale, 
and  related  the  result  somewhat  in  this  manner  to  Mr.  Nea- 
gle.  44  I looked  in  to  see  how  the  old  gentleman  was  getting 
on  with  the  picture,  and  to  my  astonishment,  I found  the 
general  surrounded  by  the  whole  family.  They  were  peel- 
ing him,  sir.  As  I went  away  I met  Mrs  Washington, 
* Madam,’  said  I,  4 the  general’s  in  a perilous  situation.’ 
£ How,  sir  ?’  4 He  is  beset,  madam, — no  less  than  five  upon  him 
at  once  ; one  aims  at  his  eye — another  at  his  nose — another 
is  busy  with  his  hair— -his  mouth  is  attacked  by  a fourth — and 
the  fifth  has  him  by  the  button  ; in  short,  madam,  there  are 
five  painters  at  him,  and  you  who  know  how  much  he  has  suf- 
fered when  only  attended  by  one,  can  judge  of  the  horrors  of 
his  situation.’  ” 

We  learn  from  Mr.  David  Edwin,  the  well  known  engra- 
ver, and  son  of  the  celebrated  comedian,  long  the  delight  of 
London,  that  during  the  yellow  fever,  which  afflicted  Phila- 
delphia, in  1798,  he  and  Mr.  Trott,  the  miniature-painter, 
were  neighbours  to  Mr.  Stuart,  near  the  Falls  of  the  Schuylkill. 
Edwin  was  at  the  time  engraving  from  the  painter’s  portraits. 
ci  When  I carried  him  a proof  of  Judge  Shippen’s  picture,” 
says  the  engraver,  44  he  had  a sitter  with  him,  and  the 
print  was  sent  in.  He  came  out  to  me,  and  expressed  his 
gratification  on  seeing  the  result  of  my  labour.  44  You  may 
consider  it,”  said  he,  44  the  greatest  compliment  I ever  paid 
you,  when  I leave  my  sitter  to  tell  you  how  much  I am  pleased 
with  this  head.’  When  looking  at  a print  from  my  engra- 
ving, of  his  portrait  of  Judge  McKean,  44 1 will  make  this  look 
like  his  son,”  said  he,  and  taking  some  chalks,  he  removed  the 
wig  of  the  judge,  and  with  a few  scratches  over  the  face, 
produced  a likeness,  when  before  there  was  no  apparent 
similarity.” 

As  in  times  to  come  this  immortal  work  may  be  quoted  to 
prove  that  American  judges  wore  wigs,  we  will  add  that  in 
1798  they  only  wore  them  as  other  old  gentlemen  did,  to  cover 
baldness.  As  judges’  wigs  were  never  worn  in  the  U.  S. 

Judge  Hopkinson  has  communicated  the  following  anecdote 
of  our  artist  during  his  residence  in  the  vicinity  of  Philadel- 
phia. Contemporary  with  our  great  portrait-painter  in  the 


207 


Stuart  opposed  to  academies. 

city  of  Penn,  was  a great  wine  merchant,  and  it  is  well  known 
that  before  his  return  to  his  native  country,  Stuart  had  con- 
tracted an  unfortunate  habit  which  rendered  the  dealers  in 
wine  very  important  personages  in  his  estimation.  It  happen- 
ed that  Mr.  Wager’s  taste  for  pictures  was  almost  as  strong  as 
the  painter’s  taste  for  Madeira,  and  he  was  willing  to  indulge 
Stuart’s  natural  palette  in  exchange  for  the  products  of  his 
artificial.  Mr.  Wager  had  three  portraits  painted,  value,  per 
bill,  three  hundred  dollars.  When  the  painter  and  the  wine 
merchant  balanced  accounts,  the  dealer  in  paint  and  immor- 
tality was  debtor,  per  bill,  two  hundred  dollars. 

Stuart  was  an  enemy  to  academies  for  teaching  the  fine 
arts.  Fuseli  has  said,  “ Academies  are  symptoms  of  art  in 
distress.”  Stuart  said  they  raised  up  a multitude  of  mediocre 
artists  to  the  injury  of  art  and  its  professors.  We  think  he 
was  wrong  in  his  sweeping  condemnation,  and  shall  give  our 
opinions  and  reasons  for  them  in  the  course  of  this  work. 
That  the  number  of  painters  is  increased  is  certain,  but  the 
most  meritorious  take  the  lead,  and  are  greater  in  merit  in  pro- 
portion to  the  number  they  precede.  Stuart  pettishly  has  said? 
“ By-and-by  you  will  not  by  chance  kick  your  foot  against  a 
dog-kennel,  but  out  will  start  a portrait-painter.”  Fuseliy 
after  the  above  sarcasm  on  academies,  was  for  many  years  the 
keeper  of  that  over  which  West  presided,  and,  in  his  old  age7 
when  criticising  the  work  of  Harlowe,  after  witnessing  his  in- 
effectual  attempts  to  draw  an  arm,  exclaimed,  “ It  is  a pity  yoi? 
never  attended  the  Antique  Academy.”  So  much  for  the 
learned  keeper’s  opinion  respecting  academies.  The  office  of 
a keeper  of  an  Academy  of  Design  or  of  the  Fine  Arts  is  of 
the  first  importance  to  the  institution,  and  highly  honourable  j 
the  keeper  is  the  teacher . Where  an  academy  is  merely  suck 
in  name,  the  keeper  may  be  found,  and  usually  is,  some  trust- 
worthy mechanic,  who  never  thought  of  a picture  but  as  some- 
thing made  valuable  by  a frame.  Academies  whose  members 
are  patrons,  not  artists,  and  whose  keepers  are  carpenters  in- 
stead of  painters,  are  indeed  “ symptoms  of  art  in  distress.” 

After  the  foundation  of  the  city  of  Washington,  and  the  re- 
moval of  congress  to  that  place,  Mr.  Stuart  followed,  taking 
up  his  abode  where  the  officers  and  representatives  of  the  peo- 
ple congregate.  At  what  precise  period  he  removed  from 
Germantown  to  Washington  we  do  not  know.  He  resided 
there  until  1805,  and  then  removed  to  Boston,  in  which  city 
and  its  suburbs  he  continued  until  his  final  removal  by  death. 
While  at  the  seat  of  government,  which  was  probably  from 
1800  to  1805,  he  associated  intimately  with  all  the  leading 


208 


Stuart  sees  his  portrait  of  1778. 

and  distinguished  men  of  the  time,  and  painted  the  portraits  of 
the  greater  number,  as  well  as  those  of  the  reigning  belles, 
residing  or  visiting  the  metropolis  of  the  nation,  as  he  had  be- 
fore done  at  New-York  and  Philadelphia.  In  1806  he  board- 
ed and  painted  at  Chapotin’s  hotel,  Broad-street,  Boston.  I 
there  saw  him  both  in  the  painting  room  and  at  the  dinner- 
table.  His  mornings  were  passed  in  the  first  and  too  much  of 
the  remainder  of  the  day  at  the  second.  His  family  were  not 
with  him. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  he  again  met  his  early  friend  Doctor 
Waterhouse,  after  a separation  of  near  thirty  years.  The 
Doctor  writes,  “ After  spending  the  night  at  my  house,  he  got 
up  early  in  the  morning,  and  went  into  the  room  where  hung 
this  head,”  (the  portrait  already  mentioned  by  the  Doctor  in 
these  words,  “ The  only  head  of  his  own,  painted  by  himself, 
was  done  for  me,  and  is  now  in  my  possession.  On  the  back 
of  it  is  written,  in  his  own  hand,  G . Stuart , Pictor , se  ipso 
pinxit , A.  D.  1778.  JPtatis  sud  24.”)  “when  I heard  him 
talking  to  it  thus  : ‘ Gibby,  you  needn’t  be  ashamed  of  that — 
there  is  the  perfection  of  the  art  or  I know  nothing  of  the 
matter.’  And  after  I made  my  appearance,  he  said  to  me,  ‘ I 
should  like  to  see  A.  B.  or  C.  attempt  to  copy  it.’  I remark- 
ed that  most  people  took  it  for  a very  old  picture.  He  replied, 

‘ Yes,  I suppose  so  ; I olified  it  on  purpose  that  they  should 
think  so,’ — punning  on  the  Latin  word  oleum- oil.” 

This  was  written  by  Doctor  Waterhouse  in  1833,  after  an 
interval  of  more  than  twenty  years,  and  although  Stuart,  like 
Reynolds,  might  have  been  surprised  to  find  that  his  improve- 
ment during  many  years  of  practice  had  not  been  so  great  as 
he  had  thought  before  he  examined  his  early  work,  yet  we 
can  hardly  think  that  he  saw  in  a picture  painted  in  1778, 

“ the  perfection  of  the  art,”  and  must  conclude  that  his  vene- 
rable friend  has  forgotten  the  precise  expression  made  use  of. 

Mr.  Stuart  often  expressed  a wish  to  visit  New-York,  but 
from  the  time  that  he  set  up  his  esel  at  Chapotin’s,  to  the  day 
of  his  death,  his  longest  journey,  I believe,  was  his  visit  to 
Narraganset,  the  place  of  his  birth.  In  1813,  I passed  many 
hours  with  him  at  his  house  in  Roxbury,  adjoining  Boston- 
Neck,  and  in  1822  I saw  him  apparently  not  in  so  good  cir- 
cumstances and  much  afflicted  with  gout,  on  Fort-hill.  I 
always  found  him  cheerful  and  ready  to  impart  knowledge 
from  the  store  his  observation  had  gained  and  his  extraordi- 
nary memory  retained.  It  was  at  this  time  that  I sat  to  him  for 
the  hands  of  Mr.  Perkins’  portrait,  now  in  the  Atheneum  at  Bos- 
ton, to  which  institution  he  had  been  a munificent  donor, and  had 


209 


Stuart's  powers  unimpaired  to  the  last. 

died  after  the  head  of  this  portrait  was  finished.  It  was  no 
task  to  sit  to  Stuart;  his  conversation  rendered  it  a pleasure. 

If  we  judge  by  the  portrait  of  the  Hon.  John  Quincy 
Adams,  the  last  head  he  painted,  his  powers  of  mind  were  un- 
diminished to  the  last,  and  his  eye  free  from  the  dimness  of  age. 
This  picture  was  begun  as  a full-length,  but  death  arrested 
the  hand  of  the  artist  after  he  had  completed  the  likeness  of 
the  face ; and  proved,  that,  at  the  age  of  seventy-four,  he 
painted  better  than  in  the  meridian  of  life.  This  picture  has 
been  finished;  that  is,  the  person  and  accessories  painted,  by 
that  eminent  and  highly  gifted  artist,  Mr.  Thos.  Sully;  who, 
as  he  has  said,  would  have  thought  it  little  less  than  sacrilege 
to  have  touched  the  head. 

Mr.  Stuart  died  in  the  month  of  July,  1828,  in  the  seventy- 
fifth  year  of  his  age  ; and  was  buried  in  the  cemetry  of  the 
episcopal  church,  which  he  attended  during  his  residence  in 
Boston. 

With  the  most  brilliant  talents,  and,  through  life,  the  admi- 
ration of  every  one  who  approached  him  or  saw  his  works, 
Gilbert  Stuart  died  poor.  His  friends,  and  the  friends  of  the 
fine  arts  in  Boston,  caused  an  exhibition  to  be  made  of  such 
of  his  works  as  could  be  collected,  and  the  proceeds  were  ap- 
propriated to  his  family.  How  man}7,  without  a hundredth 
part  of  his  talents,  have  passed  through  life  by  their  own  ef- 
forts, not  only  without  embarrassment  from  poverty,  but  in 
affluence,  merely  by  following  the  dictates  of  prudence;  while 
of  Stuart,  the  delight  of  his  friends  and  the  boast  of  his  coun- 
try, we  are  obliged  to  say,  as  was  said  of  another  professor  of 
the  fine  arts,  “ poorly,  poor  man,  he  lived  ! poorly,  poor  man, 
he  died !” 

It  has  been  said  that  Mr.  Stuart,  before  removing  to  Bos- 
ton, made  an  attempt  to  provide  for  his  family,  by  purchasing 
a farm  in  Pennsylvania,  near  Pottsville,  and  paid  part  of  the 
money  ; but  did  not  complete  the  payments,  and  finally  lost 
the  whole.  Of  this  we  can  gain  no  accurate  information. 

Mr.  Stuart  married  the  daughter  of  Doctor  Coates,  while 
residing  in  London,  in  1786.  By  this  marriage  he  had  thir- 
teen children,  two  born  in  England.  Of  these  children  two 
were  sons,  and  the  eldest  son  inherited  much  of  his  father’s 
talent  for  painting.  Both  the  sons  died  early.  Several  daugh- 
ters are  living.  The  youngest,  Miss  Jane  Stuart,  will  be  men- 
tioned in  another  part  of  this  work. 

We  shall  conclude  this  article  by  miscellaneous  observa- 
tions, facts,  and  anecdotes,  relative  to  the  subject  of  it. 

When  the  celebrated  George  Frederick  Cooke  was  playing 
27 


210 


Stuart  and  Cooke , 


at  Boston,  Stuart  painted  bis  portrait  for  an  admirer  of  the 
tragedian  ; and  it  happened  that  the  last  sitting  was  appointed 
for  a day  immediately  following  one  of  the  actor’s  long  sit- 
tings for  another  purpose.  He  began  the  sitting  in  full  glee, 
under  the  influence  of  some  brandy  toddy ; “ and  Stuart,  al- 
ways full  of  anecdote,  which  he  happily  applies  to  keep  alive 
the  attention  of  his  patients,  and  elicit  the  peculiarities  of  their 
character,  exerted  himself  to  keep  up  the  animation  which 
sparkled  in  George  Frederick’s  eyes  ; but  after  a short  time, 
his  endeavours  were  in  vain.  His  eloquence  failed  ; and  the 
subject  of  his  attention  dropped  his  chin  upon  his  breast,  and 
slept  as  comfortably  as  though  he  had  gone  to  church.  Stuart 
had  tried  to  rouse  him  by — “ a little  more  up,  if  you  please — 
a little  more  this  way — ” but  finding  all  in  vain,  he  very  deli- 
berately put  down  pencil  and  palletteand  took  out  his  snuff-box. 
The  painter  having  made  this  appeal  to  his  nose,  got  up — took 
another  pinch — looked  at  Cooke — shrugged  his  shoulders — 
walked  to  the  fire  place,  and  then  continued  to  apply  the  stim- 
ulating dust  in  most  immoderate  quantities,  like  the  represen- 
tative of  Sir  Fretful,  in  the  Critic.  Cooke  at  last  awoke  ; and 
addressing  himself  to  the  chair  Stuart  had  left  vacant,  protested 
that  he  believed  he  had  been  asleep.  “ I beg  pardon,  Mr. 
Stuart,  I will  be  more  attentive.”  Stuart,  who  stood  behind 
him,  gave  no  other  answer,  but — “ The  picture’s  finished, 
Sir.” 

There  were  many  points  in  which  these  two  eccentric  men 
of  genius  resembled  each  other ; but  Stuart  was  much  supe- 
rior in  general  information,  in  wit  and  in  repartee.  They 
were  both  fond  of  telling  a story,  and  not  sparing  in  embel- 
lishment. It  has  been  remarked,  that  it  is  more  from  a care- 
lessness about  truth,  a want  of  due  respect  for  its  importance, 
than  from  intentional  misrepresentation,  that  there  is  so  much 
falsehood  in  the  world.  This  carelessness,  and  the  habit  of 
talking  to  endeavour  to  call  forth  the  character  of  his  sitters* 
caused  in  Mr.  Stuart  a laxity  in  his  statement  of  incidents  that 
was  at  once  amusing,  curious,  puzzling,  and  lamentable.  Yet 
this  carelessness,  censurable  as  it  is,  does  not  debase  character 
so  much  as  intentional  and  premeditated  falsehood.  The 
first  renders  us  doubtful  respecting  assertions  made  relative  to 
events  or  persons,  and  fixes  a character  of  levity  on  the  man 
who  habitually  practises  it.  The  other  belongs  to  the  system- 
atic man  of  deceit,  who  misrepresents  for  purposes  of  self  exal- 
tation, or  for  the  injury  of  others,  and  marks  a mind  addicted 
to  turpitude  ; from  the  possessor  of  which  we  shrink  as  from  a 


Stuarts  recollection  of  persons . 211 

venomous  reptile.  Mr.  Stuart  had  none  of  the  latter  cha- 
racter. 

Of  Mr.  Stuart’s  power  or  faculty  of  recollection  the  follow- 
ing circumstance  has  been  published.  When  he  resided  in 
Dublin,  which  must  have  been  about  1788-9,  a young  lad, 
afterwards,  during  a long  life,  a citizen  of  Philadelphia,  was 
an  apprentice  in  a book  store,  nearly  opposite  the  house,  in 
Pill-lane,  where  the  painter  lodged.  This  citizen’s  portrait 
was  painted  in  Philadelphia,  a few  years  since,  by  Mr.  John 
Neagle  ; who  shortly  afterwards  making  a visit  to  Boston, 
for  the  purpose  of  seeing  Mr.  Stuart,  (a  pilgrimage  many  a 
painter  has  made)  took  the  portrait  with  him,  as  a specimen 
of  his  talents.  When  presented  to  Stuart  he  gazed  at  it  for  a 
while,  and  then  pronounced  the  name  of  the  person  for  whom 
it  was  painted,  declaring  that  he  had  known  him  in  Pill-lane, 
Dublin.  The  citizen  in  question  was  in  Boston  not  long  be- 
fore the  painter’s  death,  and  went  with  Mr.  O.  C.  Greenleaf 
to  see  Mr  Stuart,  requesting  his  companion  not  to  mention 
his  name.  As  soon  as  he  entered  the  room  Mr  Stuart  came 
up  to  him  familiarly,  shook  him  by  the  hand,  accosted  him  by 
name,  and  told  him  that  he  had  recognised  his  portrait  as  that 
of  his  former  acquaintance  of  Pill-lane. 

His  powers  of  recollection  were  further  exemplified  in  the 
case  of  a gentleman  of  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  whose  por- 
trait he  had  formerly  painted.  After  an  absence  of  at  least 
twent}^-five  years,  the  gentleman  called  on  him  in  Boston,  and 
was  shown  up  to  the  room  in  which  he  was  painting.  He 
knocked,  and  was  invited  to  walk  in.  On  opening  the  door, 
finding  that  the  artist  was  engaged  he  was  retiring,  when  Stu- 
art addressed  him  by  name,  as  if  he  had  recently  seen  him, 
and  insisted  on  his  coming  in. 

Of  the  rapidity  with  which  he  caught  the  form,  and  recog- 
nised a person  before  known,  Mr.  Edwin  mentioned  this  in- 
stance. “ I entered  Boston  in  the  evening,  in  a stage-coach, 
and  next  day  visited  Mr.  Stuart,  ‘I  knew  you  were  in  Boston,’ 
said  he.  ‘ I only  came  last  evening,  sir,  and  this  is  the  first 
time  I have  been  out.’  ‘ I saw  you — you  came  to  town,  like 
a criminal  going  to  the  gallows — back  foremost.’  I had  been 
sitting  on  the  front  seat.” 

On  this  occasion,  Mr.  Edwin  mentioned  Stuart’s  well  known 
aversion  to  Jarvis;  the  latter  had  arrived  at  the  same  time 
with  Edwin,  and  wished  to  call  on  Stuart,  but  Edwin  avoided 
going  with  him.  “ When  I saw  Stuart  a second  time,  I re- 
marked, that  he  had  had  a visit  from  Mr.  Jarvis:  ‘Yes,’  said 
he,  ‘ and  he  came  to  see  me  in  his  bvjfs . He  had  buff  gloves — 


212  Desultory  anecdotes . 

buff  jacket — buff  waistcoat  and  trowsers — and  buff  shoes.’  I 
mentioned  this  remark  to  Jarvis,  and  when  he  called  on  Stuart 
again,  he  wore  black.  1 told  Stuart,  that  I repeated  his  de- 
scription of  the  buffs,  and  reminded  him  of  the  second  call,  in 
black.  Hejumped  up,  and  clapt  his  hands,  laughing  heartily: 
‘ So!  I caused  him  to  put  his  buff  in  mourning.’  ” 

Another  time  that  Jarvis  had  called  on  Stuart,  he  made  his 
appearance  in  a short  coatee  with  large  pockets,  and  the  old 
man  described  him  as  “ all  inexpressibles  and  pockets.”  In- 
stances were  mentioned  of  Stuart’s  power  of  painting  likenesses 
from  memory.  He  had  so  painted  his  own  grand-mother,  and 
several  others  with  great  success.  This  was  owing  to  his  obser- 
vation of  expression  and  character,  rather  than  feature.  “ You 
have  Hull’s  likeness  here,”  said  he  to  Edwin,  looking  on  the 
engraving  from  his  portrait  of  the  naval  commander.  u He 
always  looks  as  if  the  sun  was  shining  in  his  face,  and  he  half 
shuts  his  eyes  as  he  gazes  at  him.” 

The  English  ambassador,  known  in  this  country  by  the  ap- 
pellation of  Copenhagen  Jackson,  told  Judge  Hopkinson, 
that  when  he  was  about  leaving  England  for  America,  he 
called  on  Mr.  West,  and  asked  him  to  recommend  a portrait- 
painter.  Telling  him  that  he  was  going  abroad.  “ Where  are 
you  going?”  “ To  the  United  States.”  “ Then,  sir,  you  will 
find  the  best  portrait-painter  in  the  world,  and  his  name  is  Gil- 
bert Stuart.”  Mr.  Jackson  visited  Stuart,  and  told  him  the 
words  of  his  old  master.  “ I saw  the  portraits  he  painted  for 
him,”  said  Mr.  Hopkinson,  “ and  they  were  admirable  likenesses 
of  the  ambassador  and  his  wife.” 

It  is  remembered  by  many  that  Stuart  generally  produced 
a likeness  on  the  pannel  or  canvas,  before  painting  in  the  eyes, 
his  theory  being,  that  on  the  nose,  more  than  any  other  feature, 
likeness  depended.  On  one  occasion,  when  a pert  coxcomb 
had  been  sitting  to  him,  the  painter  gave  notice  that  the  sitting 
was  ended,  and  the  dandy  exclaimed  on  looking  at  the  canvas, 
“ Why—  it  has  no  eyes!”  Stuart  replied,  “It  is  not  nine  days 
old  yet.”  We  presume  our  readers  need  not  be  reminded 
that  nine  days  must  elapse  from  the  birth  of  a puppy,  before  he 
opens  his  eyes. 

Mr.  David  Edwin  engraved  many  portraits  from  the  works 
of  Stuart,  and  had  much  intercourse  with  him.  In  a letter 
before  us  he  says,  “ Mr.  Stuart  has  been  thought  by  many  to 
have  been  harsh  and  repulsive  in  his  manners:  to  me  he  never 
appeared  so ; and  many  of  those  who  thought  they  had  cause 
to  complain,  have  possibly  brought  his  ill  temper  on  themselves 
by  want  of  manners,  or  some  other  cause.  Perhaps  he  prac- 


213 


Snuff  again. 

tised  too  often  the  advice  which  he  said  had  been  given  him 
by  Lord  Thurlow,  who  on  one  occasion  said  to  him,  “If  any 
man  speaks  disrespectfully  of  either  you  or  your  art,  give  him 
battle,  my  boy!  Give  him  battle!”  This  system  might  un- 
doubtedly appear  sometimes  “ harsh  and  repulsive  and  per- 
haps his  nephew  Stuart  Newton  found  it  so,  for  I have  been 
told  that  his  bitter  expressions  of  dislike  to  his  uncle,  originat- 
ed from  a repulse  of  this  kind.  Newton  had  been  receiving 
Stuart’s  instruction  in  painting,  and  on  one  occasion,  under 
the  influence  of  high  animal  spirits,  and  little  observant  of  the 
present  humour  of  his  instructor,  he  abruptly  entered  Stuart’s 
room,  and  flourishing  his  pencil,  cried,  “Now,  old  gentleman  ! 
I’ll  teach  you  to  paint!”  This  joke  came  unseasonably  it 
seems,  and  the  reply  was,  “You’ll  teach  me  to  paint,  will  you? 
and  I’ll  teach  you  manners!”  and  not  happening  to  have  the 
gout  at  the  time,  he  kicked  the  youth  out  of  his  room. 

Of  the  painter’s  inveterate  habit  of  snuffing  we  have  already 
spoken.  Mr.  Edwin  relates  the  following  instance  of  the 
slavery  to  which  his  nose  subjected  him.  Having  engaged 
to  dine  with  him,  the  engraver  went  early  and  found  that  he 
had  not  returned  from  his  morning’s  walk.  By  and  by  in 
came  Stuart,  apparently  in  a state  of  great  agitation,  and  pass- 
ing his  guest  without  speaking,  or  even  noticing  him,  went  to 
a closet  and  took  out  a bundle.  Edwin  was  fearful  that  he 
had  offended  him  unknowingly,  and  sat  rather  uneasily,  ob- 
serving his  motions.  He  took  from  the  bundle  some  tobacco, 
a grater,  (probably  the  identical  grater  which  occasionally  was 
stationed  behind  the  curtain  to  help  the  master  to  a pun  in- 
stead of  a pinch,)  and  a sieve.  His  nerves  were  so  agitated 
that  with  difficulty  he  manufactured  the  precious  article,  which 
he  had  inhaled  with  his  first  breath — but  succeeding,  he  hastily 
took  a large  dose ; his  uncommon  tremor  seemed  suddenly  to 
forsake  him,  and  greeting  his  guest  cordially,  he  exclaimed, 
“ What  a wonderful  effect  a pinch  of  snuff  has  upon  a man’s 
spirits.” 

He  had  forgotten  to  replenish  his  snuff-box  before  going  out 
and  was  so  enslaved  by  habit,  that  he  could  not  even  recog- 
nise an  acquaintance,  in  his  own  house,  until  the  appetite  was 
satisfied. 

Another  pinch  of  snuff.  The  writer  on  occasion  of  one  of 
his  visits  to  Boston,  had  a sea-captain,  an  elderly  man,  of  some 
humour,  for  a companion,  who  was,  like  Stuart,  a slave  to 
snuff,  and  like  him  had  most  capacious  nostrils.  The  sailor 
invariably  applied  the  stimulating  dust  to  his  right  nostril. 
Seeing  at  length  that  his  companion  observed  this,  he 


214  Stuart's  general  excellence  as  a painter. 

remarked,  “You  see,  sir,  I have  always  a nostril  in  reserve. 
When  the  right  becomes  callous  after  a few  weeks  usage,  I 
apply  for  comfort  to  the  left;  which  having  had  time  to  regain 
its  sense  of  feeling,  enjoys  the  blackguard,  untiDhe  right  comes 
to  its  senses.  When  I visited  Stuart,  I told  him  of  the  sailor’s 
practice.  “ Thank  you !”.  said  he,  “ it’s  a great  discovery. 
Strange  that  1 should  not  have  made  it  myself  when  I have 
been  voyaging  all  my  life  in  these  channels.” 

Stuart  once  asked  a painter,  who  had  met  with  a painter’s 
difficulties,  “ how  he  got  on  in  the  world?”  “ Oh,”  said  the 
other,  “ so,  so  ! hard  work — but  I shall  get  through.”  “ Did 
you  ever  hear  of  any  body  that  did  not?”  was  the  rejoinder. 

Of  the  merits  of  his  pictures,  when  collected  for  exhibition, 
after  his  death,  we  have  heard  some  speak  disparagingly. — 
These  pictures  are  mostly  heads.  Now  a gallery  of  heads, 
many  of  them  portraits  of  persons  unknown,  and  many  of  those 
who  have  been  long  since  forgotten,  must  ever  be  an  uninter- 
esting exhibition  to  most.  Some  of  these  pictures  were  said  to 
be  positively  bad.  I am  free  to  say,  that  I never  saw  a pic- 
ture by  Stuart  that  did  not  show  a skill  in  handling,  and  a 
mind  in  dictating,  far  above  mediocrity.  His  best  pictures 
are  beyond  all  praise.  An  impudent  pretender  to  criticism 
has  said,  that  “ Stuart  painted  bad  pictures  enough  to  damn 
any  other  man.”  This  was  said  because  it  had  point  and  was 
bold  ; but  it  is  as  false  as  the  author  is  ignorant  of  the  art  he 
criticised.  Others  again  have  said,  Stuart’s  females  were  al- 
ways poor,  compared  to  his  portraits  of  men.  I doubt  that, 
and  remember  some  truly  splendid.  Mr.  Isaac  P.  Davis  has 
two  heads  on  one  canvas  that  may  defy  competition.  I have 
seen  unfinished  and  carelessly  finished,  and  slovenly  pictures, 
by  Stuart,  but  I never  saw  a bad  one:  His  last  portraits,  or 

those  painted  in  Boston,  are  his  best. 

In  corroboration  of  my  opinion  respecting  the  merit  of  Stu- 
art’s works,  after  his  removal  to  Boston,  I here  insert  an  anec- 
dote related  by  Mr.  Sully.  Mr.  Allston,  at  Sully’s  request, 
accompanied  him  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Gibbs,  where  Allston’s 
fine  picture  of  Elijah  was  to  be  seen.  After  looking  at  this, 
Miss  Gibbs  invited  them  into  another  room,  to  see  a portrait 
of  her  father  by  Stuart.  Sully  says,  he  almost  started  at  first 
sight  of  it:  and  after  he  had  examined  it  Allston  asked,  “ Well, 
what  is  your  opinion  ?”  The  reply  was,  “ I may  commit  my- 
self and  expose  my  ignorance ; but,  in  my  opinion,  I never 
saw  a Rembrandt,  Rubens,  V andyke,  or  Titian,  equal  to  it. 
What  say  you  ?”  “ I say,  that  all  combined  could  not  have 

equalled  it.” 


21 5 


Note  by  Mr.  Neagle. 

Mr.  Neagle  says,  speaking  of  this  same  portrait,  “ There 
was  a portrait,  by  Stuart,  that  Mr.  Allston  regretted  that  I 
could  not  see  ‘ the  house  of  the  owner,’  being  at  the  time  shut 
up.  He  spoke  of  it,  not  only  as  the  best  American  por- 
trait, but  said,  that  ‘Vandyke,  Reynolds,  and  Rubens,  com- 
bined, could  not  have  produced  so  admirable  a work.  Mr. 
Sully  has  described  it  as  a portrait  of  a man  of  middle  age, 
looking  out.  His  hair  was  dark,  but  becoming  silvery,  and 
the  grey  and  dark  hairs  were  mingled.  Mr.  Sully  told  me, 
it  was  a living  man , looking  directly  at  yon” 

We  extract  the  following  from  Mr.  Neagle’s  manuscript 
notes. — “ When  I knew  him,  he  carried  two  boxes  of  snuff, 
each  nearly  as  large  round  as  the  top  of  a small  hat.  I re- 
member he  offered  me  a pinch  of  each  : and  when  I asked 
him  what  was  the  difference,  he  replied,  ‘ One  box  is  common 
and  one  superior  ; the  first  is  for  common,  every  day  acquaint- 
ance, the  second  for  paticular  friends ; therefore,  take  you  a 
pinch  of  the  best.’  This  was  his  humour,  and  I never  felt 
so  much  ease  in  the  company  of  any  superior  man  as  in  his, 
nor  ever  received  so  much  improvement  in  conversation  on 
the  arts  from  any  other.  I have  drank  wine  and  taken  snuff 
with  him  ; and  I must  agree  with  David  Edwin,  that  those 
who  smarted  under  his  resentment,  must  have  brought  it  on  by 
their  own  imprudence  or  presumption.  I shall  never  forget 
his  kindness  to  me.  His  family  appeared  to  fear  him.  He 
had  an  odd  way  of  addressing  his  wife.  He  called  her  Tom 
several  times  in  my  presence.  I have  often  remarked,  that 
Mr.  Stuart  made  use  of  fewer  technicals  than  any  other  artist 
with  whom  I ever  conversed.  Mr.  Edwin  has  made  the  same 
observation.  While  criticising  a half  finished  engraving,  he 
would  not  talk  of  breadth , drawing , proportion , or  the  like  ; 
but  would  say  of  a portrait,  ‘ this  man’s  eyes  appear  as  if  he 
was  looking  at  the  sun.’  Instead  of  saying,  make  a back 
ground  neutral , he  would  say,  ‘ Make  nothing  of  it.’  His 
feelings  were  sore  on  the  subject  of  the  Washington  portrait, 
by  Rembrandt  Peale.  He  imagined  there  was  much  quackery 
in  that  affair.  In  answer  to  a question  1 put  to  him  on  that 
picture,  and  the  certificate,  he  said,  ‘ Si  qui  decipientur  deci- 
piuntur.’  He  did  not  appear  to  me  to  be  happy,  yet  was  al- 
ways ready  to  converse,  had  a fund  of  anecdote,  and  was  then 
cheerful.  He  was  particularly  eloquent  on  the  subject  of  arts 
and  artists ; and  when  he  wished  he  could  wield  the  weapons 
of  satire  and  ridicule  with  peculiar  force,  seize  the  strong 
point  of  character,  placing  it  so  dexterously  in  the  light  he 
wished,  that  the  impression  was  irresistible  and  not  easily  ef- 


216 


N eagle  in  continuation . 

faced.  His  plan  with  his  sitters  was,  to  keep  up  an  agree- 
able but  gentle  conversation,  keeping  his  mind  free  and  fixed 
on  his  work.  He  commenced  his  pictures  faint,  like  the  re- 
flexions in  a dull  glass,  and  strengthened  as  the  work  pro- 
gressed, making  the  parts  all  more  determined,  with  colour, 
light,  and  shade.  Mr.  Stuart,  at  the  time  I visited  him,  had 
suffered  from  paralysis  : the  left  side  of  his  face  was  contract- 
ed, and  he  called  my  attention  to  this  fact  when  I was  about 
to  commence  his  portrait ; and  advised  me,  for  the  sake  of 
perspective  representation,  in  such  cases,  to  place  the  withered 
side  farthest  from  the  eye.  His  hands  shook  at  times  so  vio- 
lently, that  I wondered  how  he  could  place  his  brush  where 
his  mind  directed.  He  laughed  at  the  portrait  of  himself 
painted  by  C.  W.  Peale,  and  placed  by  him  in  his  museum 
at  Philadelphia  : he  said  it  was  an  awkward  clown.  He  had 
been  solicited  repeatedly  by  letter,  and  verbally,  in  this  coun- 
try and  in  Europe,  to  sit  for  his  portrait.  Frothingham  asked 
him,  and  he  admired  Frothingham;  yet  he  never  sat  to  him. 
— That  he  should  have  honoured  me,  an  humble  artist  and  a 
stranger,  by  not  only  sitting  for  one  portrait  entire,  but  by 
sitting  for  the  completion  of  a copy,  is  singular.  My  portrait 
is  the  last  ever  painted  of  this  distinguished  artist.  I presented 
it  to  Mr.  Stuart’s  friend,  Isaac  P.  Davis,  Esq.  and  it  is  now 
I think,  the  property  of  the  Boston  Athenseum.  He  said  he 
never  could  make  a finished  drawing  on  paper.  I asked  why 
he  and  Mr  Allston  did  not  get  up  an  Academy  of  Arts  in  Bos- 
ton : he  said  that  men  of  wealth  and  pretension  generally  in- 
terfered, to  the  detriment  of  arts  and  artists. 

44  The  following  dialogue  passed  between  us,  as  nearly  as  1 
can  remember  the  phraseology  : it  was  when  my  portrait  of 
Mr.  Stuart  was  in  progress,  in  the  summer  of  1825.  He  had 
stepped  out  of  the  painting  room,  (it  was  at  his  own  house) 
and  in  the  mean  time,  as  a preparation  for  his  sitting,  I placed 
alongside  of  my  unfinished  portrait  one  painted  by  him  of  Mr. 
Quincey,  the  mayor  of  Boston,  with  a view  of  aiding  me  some- 
what in  the  colouring.  When  he  returned  and  was  seated 
before  me,  he  pointed  to  the  portrait  of  the  mayor,  and  asked, 

‘ What  is  that  ?’  4 One  of  your  portraits.’  4 Oh,  my  boy, 

you  should  not  do  that!’  said  he.  4 I beg  your  pardon,  Mr. 
Stuart,  I should  have  obtained  your  permission  before  I made 
this  use  of  it ; but  1 have  placed  it  so  carefully  that  it  cannot 
suffer  the  least  injury.’  4 It  is  not  on  that  account,’  said  he, 

4 that  I speak  : I have  every  confidence  in  your  care : but 
why  do  you  place  it  there  ?’  4 That  I might  devote  my 

mind  to  a high  standard  of  art,’  I replied,  4 in  order  the 


217 


Stuart's  theory  of  colouring* 

more  successfully  to  understand  the  natural  model  before  me.’ 

^ But,’  said  he,  ‘does  my  face  look  like  Mr.  Quincey’s?’ 

‘ No,  sir,  not  at  all  in  the  expression,  nor  can  I say  that  the 
colouring  is  even  like  ; but  there  is  a certain  air  of  truth  in 
the  colouring  of  your  work  which  gives  me  an  insight  into 
the  complexion  and  effect  of  nature  ; and  1 was  in  hopes  of 
catching  something  from  the  work  of  the  master  without  imi- 
tating it.’  ‘ As  you  have  heretofore,’  said  Mr.  Stuart,  ‘had 
reasons  at  command  for  your  practice,  tell  me  what  suggested 
this  method.’  ‘ Some  parts  of  the  lectures  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,’  which  1 repeated  to  him.  ‘ 1 knew  it,’  said  he; 
and  added,  ‘ Reynolds  was  a good  painter,  but  he  has  done 
incalculable  mischief  to  the  rising  generation  by  many  of  his 
remarks,  however  excellent  he  was  in  other  respects  as  a writer 
on  art.  You  may  elevate  your  mind  as  much  as  you  can; 
but,  while  you  have  nature  before  you  as  a model,  paint  what 
you  see,  and  look  with  your  own  eyes.  However  you  may 
estimate  my  works,’  continued  the  veteran,  ‘ depend  upon  it 
they  are  very  imperfect;  and  the  works  of  the  best  artists  have 
some  striking  faults.’ 

“ He  told  me  that  he  thought  Titian’s  works  were  not 
by  any  means  so  well  blended  when  they  left  the  esel,  as 
the  moderns  infer  from  their  present  effect.  Fie  considered 
that  Rubens  had  a fair  perception  of  colour,  and  had  stu- 
died well  the  works  of  the  great  Venetian,  and  that  he  must 
have  discovered  more  tinting,  or  separate  tints , or  distinct- 
ness, than  others  did,  and  that,  as  time  mellowed  and  incorpo- 
rated the  tints,  he  (Rubens,)  resolved  not  only  to  keep  his 
colours  still  more  distinct  against  the  ravages  of  time,  but  to 
follow  his  own  impetuous  disposition  with  spirited  touches. 
Mr.  Stuart  condemned  the  practice  of  mixing  a colour  on  a 
knife,  and  comparing  it  with  whatever  was  to  be  imitated. — 

1 Good  flesh  colouring,’  he  said,  ‘ partook  of  all  colours, 
not  mixed,  so  as  to  be  combined  in  one  tint,  but  shining 
through  each  other,  like  the  blood  through  the  natural  skin.’ 
Vandyke  he  much  admired,  for  the  intelligence  of  his  heads 
and  his  freedom.  Fie  spoke  well  of  Gainsborough’s  flesh,  and 
his  dragging  manner  of  tinting;  but  could  not  endure  Cop- 
ley’s laboured  flesh,  which  he  compared  to  tanned  leather.’  ” 
We  copy  these  reminiscences  of  the  conversation  of  Mr. 
Stuart,  and  consider  them  valuable.  What  is  said  of  flesh 
“ partaking  of  all  colours,”  will  remind  the  reader  of  Stuart’s 
remarks  on  West’s  mode  of  teaching,  as  given  in  a preceding 
page,  when  he  was  speaking  to  Trumbull.  Mr.  Copley’s" 


218 


Vanity  and  bad  taste . 

manner  was  not  always  like  “ tanned  leather”  in  his  flesh : 
some  of  his  pictures  deserve  the  censure— -but  our  opinion  of 
his  works  is  already  given. 

We  all  know  that  Mr.  Stuart  sometimes  neglected  the  dra- 
peries of  his  pictures,  leaving  them  in  a most  slovenly  style  of 
unfinish.  44  1 was  with  him  one  day,’5  said  Mr.  Trott,  44  when 
he  pointed  to  the  portrait  of  a gentleman,  saying,  4 That  pic- 
ture has  just  been  returned  to  me,  with  the  grievous  complaint 
that  the  muslin  of  the  cravat  is  too  coarse.  Now,  sir,’  he 
continued,  with  increasing  indignation,  ‘ I am  determined  to 
buy  a piece  of  the  finest  texture,  have  it  glued  on  the  part  that 
offends  their  exquisite  judgment,  and  send  it  back  again.’” 

On  one  occasion  (probably  more  than  one)  his  sense  of  pro- 
priety was  tortured  by  the  want  of  taste  in  the  dress  and  de- 
coration of  a sitter.  This  is  the  common  fate  of  portrait 
painters.  A mantua-maker  of  Boston  had  drawn  a great  prize 
in  the  lottery ; and  imagining  that  wealth  made  a fine  lady  of 
her,  determined  that  at  least  her  appearance  should  be  fine, 
and  decorated  herself  with  all  the  choice  trumpery  of  her  own 
shop,  the  glittering  gew-gaws  of  the  jewellers,  and,  with  the 
addition  of  hair  powder  and  rouge,  presented  herself  to  the 
great  portrait  painter  for  immortalization.  There  were  times 
and  humours  in  which  he  would  have  refused  the  task  ; but  he 
consented  to  share  the  prize,  and  painted  the  accumulation  of 
trinket  and  trifle,  as  if  determined  to  raise  a monument  to  folly. 
“■  There,”  said  he  to  a friend,  pointing  to  the  picture,  44  is 
what  I have  all  my  painting  life  been  endeavouring  to  avoid, 
- — vanity  and  bad  taste.” 

Stuart,  before  drawing  in  a portrait,  observed  w hich  side  of 
the  face  gave  the  best  outline  of  the  nose,  and  chose  that  as  the 
side  nearest  the  spectator’s  eye.  He  alwrays  asserted,  that 
likeness  depended  more  upon  the  nose  than  any  other  feature ; 
and  often  related  a real  or  imaginary  conversation,  in  which 
Chas.  Fox,  Lord  A—,  Lord  B — , and  Lord  C— , with  him- 
self, were  the  interlocutors.  He  wmuld  give  the  arguments  of 
one  for  the  mouth,  another,  (Fox)  for  the  brow,  most  for  the 
eyes  ; and  concluded  by  convincing  them,  and  the  person  to 
whom  he  addressed  himself,  that  the  nose  was  the  key  feature 
©f  portraiture,  by  putting  his  thumb  under  his  large  and  flex- 
ible proboscis,  and  turning  it  up,  so  as  to  display  the  ample 
nostrils,  he  would  exclaim,  44  Who  would  know  my  portrait 
with  such  a nose  as  this  ?” 

When  asked  why  he  did  not  put  his  name  or  initials,  to^ 
mark  his  pictures,  he  said,  44 1 mark  them  all  over.” 


Doctor  Waterhouse. 


219 


In  a letter  before  us  Mr.  Sargent  says,  44  Stuart,  you  may 
remember  was  very  fond  of  story-telling,  and  like  all  other 
story  tellers  was  very  apt  to  repeat  them;  but  the  climax  of  this 
sort  of  thing  was  his  repeating  stories  to  others,  who  had  told 
them  originally  to  him.  I once  told  him  a story  that  was  very 
interesting  and  original,  at  which  he  laughed  immoderately, 
and  on  meeting  me  the  next  morning,  he  said  he  had  a good 
thing  to  tell  me — what  was  my  surprise  when  he  told  me  my 
own  story!  Knowing  his  peculiar  temper,  I let  it  pass,  and 
we  both  laughed  heartily — but  we  were  laughing  with  very 
different  views  of  the  subject.” 

Doctor  Waterhouse  says,  that  the  task  of  writing  Stuart’s 
biography  was  expected  from  him  even  before  the  painter’s 
death,  44  which  induced  his  widow,  when  it  happened,  to  ex- 
press her  uneasiness,  and  to  beg  of  me  not  to  do  it.”  This  was 
in  consequence  of  some  real  or  supposed  difference  between 
the  friends  in  the  decline  of  life.  The  Doctor  in  a letter  be- 
fore us  says,  44  Gilbert  Stuart  and  I never  quarrelled ; I with- 
drew from  him  and  his  hot-headed  companions,  when  nullifi- 
cation reigned  in  New-England.”  And  again,  44  Stuart  vin- 
dicated me  at  the  dinner  and  supper  tables  of  the  Essex  junto, 
or  nullifiers  of  that  day,  amidst  their  insults  and  toasts,  until 
the  getting  up  of  the  Hartford  Convention,  when  I took  my 
stand  against  it,  and  when  the  current  in  its  favour  ran  so 
strong  that  Stuart  thought  it  for  his  interest  to  yield  to  it  while 
I opposed  it  with  all  my  might;  of  course,  Gilbert  and  I found 
ourselves  on  opposite  banks  of  the  river.” 

In  another  letter,  the  same  writer  says,  44  It  should  be  borne 
in  mind,  that  he  had  been  on  the  stage  as  a most  eminent  head 
painter,  nearly  sixty  years,  and  that  he  had  painted  all  the  pre- 
sidents of  the  United  States,  the  present  one  excepted,  (1833) 
and  most  of  the  distinguished  characters  of  the  revolution,  and 
that  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  himself  sat  to  him,  and  that,  take 
him  altogether,  he  was  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  men  our 
country  has  produced.  When  I quitted  England,  and  entered 
the  University  of  Leyden,  I received  no  letter  from  Stuart; 
only  verbal  messages  and  kind  wishes.  During  my  residence 
at  that  seat  of  science,  he  married  and  went  over  to  Ireland, 
and  I never  saw  him  afterwards,  till  he  called  upon  me  here  in 
Cambridge,  in,  I think,  1802,”  (18  0 5.)  44  and  then  I found 
him  a much  altered  man.  He  had,  it  seemed,  relished  Irish 
society,  particularly  their  conviviality.”  “He  would  sometimes 
spend  several  da}'s  together  at  my  house,  and  remain  as  long  as 
his  snuff  lasted,  and  then  nothing  could  detain  him  from 
Boston.” 


220 


Anecdote  by  Doctor  Waterhouse . 

On  another  occasion,  Doctor  Waterhouse  writes,  “ My 
knowledge  of  him  was  during  his  struggles  up  the  hill  of  fame, 
and  not  when  he  had  surmounted  it,  and  sat  down  with  his 
bottle  to  enjoy  the  scene  below  him.’5  44  His  prosperity  did  not 
operate  upon  him  as  it  operated  on  the  judicious  and  strictly 
moral  Benjamin  West.”  44  I shall  say,  that  after  1778  Mr. 
Stuart  came  into  notice  as  a portrait  painter  in  London,  and 
painted  several  distinguished  characters,  and  was  for  a time  in 
the  high  road  to  fame  and  fortune,  and  would  have  secured  both, 
had  he  duly  estimated,  like  West  and  Reynolds,  the  great  value 
of  his  art,  and  wisely  appreciated  the  short  lived  gratification 
of  a man  of  wit  and  pleasure  in  London,  that  whirlpool  of  dis- 
sipation, which  has  engulfed  many  a bright  genius  before  the 
time  of  Gilbert  C.  Stuart.”  Again  he  says,  44  He  w as  a man 
of  genius  and  a gentleman.  He  saw  the  great  merit  of  an  artist 
without  envy.  He  never  appeared  to  damn  with  faint  praise. 
When  merit  was  mistaken,  he  was  silent,  and  when  praise  was 
richly  deserved,  he  gave  it  liberally.  There  are  a thousand 
anecdotes,  good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  many  of  them  unworthy 
of  his  powerful  mind.”  We  have  given  one  from  the  Doctor, 
and  leave  the  reader  to  class  it— we  give  another.  44  A gen- 
tleman of  an  estimable  character,  and  of  no  small  consequence 
in  his  own  eyes,  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  public,  employed  our 
artist  to  paint  his  portrait,  and  that  of  his  wife,  who  when  he 
married  her  was  a very  rich  widow,  born  the  other  side  of  the 
Atlantic.  This  worth}7  woman  was  very  homely,  while  the 
husband  was  handsome,  and  of  a noble  figure.  The  painter, 
as  usual,  made  the  best  of  the  lady,  but  could  not  make  her  so 
handsome  as  the  husband  wished,  and  preserve  the  likeness. 
He  expressed  in  polite  terms  his  dissatisfaction,  and  wished  him 
to  try  over  again.  The  painter  did  so,  and  sacrificed  as  much 
of  the  likeness  to  good  looks,  as  he  possibly  could,  or  ought. 
Still  the  complaisant  husband  was  uneasy,  and  the  painter  w'as 
teazed  from  one  month’s  end  to  another  to  alter  it.  At  length 
he  began  to  fret,  and  to  pacify  him  Stuart  told  him  that  it  was 
a common  remark,  that  wives  were  very  rarely,  if  ever,  pleased 
w7ith  pictures  of  their  husbands,  unless  they  were  living  ones. 
On  the  other  side,  husbands  were  as  seldom  pleased  with  the 
paintings  of  their  beloved  wives,  and  gave  him  a very  plausible 
reason  for  it.  Once  they  unluckily  both  got  out  of  temper  at 
the  same  time,  and  snapped  out  their  frettings  accordingly.  At 
last  the  painter’s  patience,  which  had  been  some  time  thread- 
bare, broke  out,  when  he  jumped  up,  laid  down  his  palette,  took 
a large  pinch  of  snuff,  and  walking  rapidly  up  and  down  the 
room,  exclaimed,  4 What  a ——business  is  this  of  a portrait- 


Allston's  opinion  of  Stuart.  221 

painter — you  bring  him  a potatoes  and  expect  he  will  paint  you 
a peach.’ 

One  of  the  most  unequivocal  testimonies  to  the  truth  of 
Stuart’s  portrait  of  Washington  is,  that  when  Vanderlyn  was 
employed  by  congress  to  paint  a full-length  of  the  hero  for 
the  nation,  it  was  stipulated  that  he  should  copy  the  counte- 
nance from  Stuart’s  original  picture  in  the  possession  of  the 
Boston  Athenaeum. 

Immediately  upon  hearing  of  the  decease  of  our  great  por- 
trait-painter, the  artists  of  Philadelphia  met,  and  published 
a number  of  resolutions  expressive  of  their  regret. 

I will  close  this  biographical  notice  of  Gilbert  Stuart,  by 
an  extract  from  a letter  dated  Oct.  15,  1833,  from  Mr.  All- 
ston,  and  another  from  the  publication  he  mentions.  “I  be- 
came acquainted  with  Stuart  after  my  return  from  Italy,  and 
saw  much  of  him  both  before,  and  since  my  last  visit  to  Europe. 
Of  the  character  of  our  intercourse  you  can  form  an  opinion 
from  these  few  lines,  extracted  from  an  obituary  notice  ofhim  I 
wrote  (published  in  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser,  a few  days 
after  his  decease  ;)  his  uniform  kindness,  and  the  unbroken 
friendship  with  which  he  honoured  the  writer  of  this,  will  never 
be  forgotten.  To  this  I may  add,  that  I learned  much  from 
him  in  my  art.”  The  obituary  notice  was  as  follows  : 

During  the  last  week  the  remains  of  Gilbert  Stuart,  Esq. 
were  consigned  to  the  tomb.  He  was  born  in  the  state  of 
Rhode-Island  in  the  year  1754.  Soon  after  coming  of  age 
he  went  to  England,  where  he  became  the  pupil  of  Mr. 
West,  the  late  distinguished  president  of  the  Royal  Academy. 
Stuart  there  rose  to  eminence  ; nor  was  it  a slight  distinction 
that  his  claims  were  acknowledged  even  during  the  life  of  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds.  His  high  reputation  as  a portrait-painter, 
as  well  in  Ireland  as  in  England,  having  thus  introduced  him  to 
a large  acquaintance  among  the  higher  classes  of  society,  both 
fortune  and  fame  attended  his  progress  ; insomuch  that,  had 
he  chosen  to  remain  in  England,  they  would  doubtless  have 
rewarded  him  with  their  highest  gifts.  But,  admired  and 
patronized  as  he  was,  he  chose  to  return  to  his  native  country. 
He  was  impelled  to  this  step,  as  he  often  declared,  by  a desire 
to  give  to  Americans  a faithful  portrait  of  Washington,  and 
thus  in  some  measure  to  associate  his  own  with  the  name  of 
the  father  of  his  country.  And  well  is  his  ambition  justified 
in  the  sublime  head  he  has  left  us  : a nobler  personification  of 
wisdom  and  goodness,  reposing  in  the  majesty  of  a serene 
conscience,  is  not  to  be  found  on  canvas.  He  returned  to 
America  in  the  year  1793,  and  resided  chiefly  in  Philadelphia 


222  Obituary  notice  of  Mr.  Allston. 

and  Washington,  in  the  practice  of  his  profession,  till  about 
the  year  1805,  when  he  removed  to  Boston,  where  he  remain- 
ed to  the  time  of  his  death.  During  the  last  ten  years  of  his 
life  he  had  to  struggle  with  many  infirmities  ; yet  such  was 
the  vigour  of  his  mind,  that  it  seemed  to  triumph  over  the 
decays  of  nature,  and  to  give  to  some  of  his  last  productions 
all  the  truth  and  splendour  of  his  prime. 

Gilbert  Stuart  was  not  only  one  of  the  first  painters  of  his 
time,  but  must  have  been  admitted  by  all  who  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  knowing  him,  to  have  been,  even  out  of  his  art,  an 
extraordinary  man  ; one  who  would  have  found  distinction 
easy  in  any  other  profession  or  walk  of  life.  His  mind  was 
of  a strong  and  original  cast,  his  perceptions  as  clear  as  they 
were  just,  and  in  the  power  of  illustration  he  has  rarely  been 
equalled.  On  almost  every  subject,  more  especially  on  such 
as  were  connected  with  his  art,  his  conversation  was  marked 
by  wisdom  and  knowledge  ; while  the  uncommon  precision 
and  elegance  of  his  language  seemed  ever  to  receive  an  addi- 
tional grace  from  his  manner,  which  was  that  of  a well  bred 
gentleman. 

The  narrations  and  anecdotes  with  which  his  knowledge  of 
men  and  of  the  world  had  stored  his  memory,  and  which  he  often 
gave  with  great  beauty  and  dramatic  effect,  were  not  unfre- 
quently  employed  by  Mr.  Stuart  in  a way,  and  with  an  ad- 
dress peculiar  to  himself.  From  this  store  it  was  his  custom 
to  draw  largely  while  occupied  with  his  sitters — apparently 
for  their  amusement ; but  his  object  was  rather,  by  thus  ban- 
ishing all  restraint,  to  call  forth  if  possible  some  involuntary 
traits  of  the  natural  character.  But  these  glimpses  of  charac- 
ter, mixed  as  they  are  in  all  men  with  so  much  that  belongs 
to  their  age  and  associates,  would  have  been  of  little  use  to  an 
ordinary  observer  ; for  the  faculty  of  distinguishing  between 
the  accidental  and  the  permanent,  in  other  words,  between  the 
conventional  expression  which  arises  from  manners , and  that 
more  subtle  indication  of  the  individual  mind,  is  indeed  no 
common  one  : and  by  no  one  with  whom  we  are  acquainted, 
was  this  faculty  possessed  in  so  remarkable  a degree.  It  was 
this  which  enabled  him  to  animate  his  canvas — not  with  the 
appearance  of  mere  general  life — but  with  that  peculiar,  dis- 
tinctive life  which  separates  the  humblest  individual  from  his 
kind.  He  seemed  to  dive  into  the  thoughts  of  men — for  they 
were  made  to  rise,  and  to  speak  on  the  surface.  Were  other 
evidences  wanting,  this  talent  alone  were  sufficient  to  establish 
his  claims  as  a man  of  genius  ; since  it  is  the  privilege  of 
genius  alone  to  measure  at  once  the  highest  and  the  lowest. 


Earle . 


223 


In  his  happier  efforts  no  one  ever  surpassed  him  in  embody- 
ing (if  we  may  so  speak)  these  transient  apparitions  of  the 
soul.  Of  this  not  the  least  admirable  instance  is  his  portrait 
(painted  within  the  last  four  years)  of  the  late  President 
Adams;  whose  then  bodily  tenement  seemed  rather  to  present 
the  image  of  some  dilapidated  castle,  than  that  of  the  habita- 
tion of  the  “unbroken  mind:”  but  not  such  is  the  picture; 
called  forth  as  from  its  crumbling  recesses,  the  living  tenant 
is  there — still  ennobling  the  ruin,  and  upholding  it,  as  it  were 
by  the  strength  of  his  own  life.  In  this  venerable  ruin  will 
the  unbending  patriot  and  the  gifted  artist  speak  to  posterity 
of  the  first  glorious  century  of  our  Republic. 

In  a word,  Gilbert  Stuart  was,  in  its  widest  sense,  a philo- 
sopher in  his  art;  he  thoroughly  understood  its  principles  ; as 
his  works  bear  witness — whether  as  to  the  harmony  of  colours, 
or  of  lines,  or  of  light  and  shadow — showing  that  exquisite 
sense  of  a whole , which  only  a man  of  genius  can  realize  and 
embody. 

We  cannot  close  this  brief  notice  without  a passing  record  of 
his  generous  bearing  towards  his  professional  brethren.  He 
never  suffered  the  manliness  of  his  nature  to  darken  with  the 
least  shadow  of  jealousy,  but  where  praise  was  due,  he  gave 
it  freely,  and  gave  too  with  a grace  which  showed  that,  lov- 
ing excellence  for  its  own  sake,  he  had  a pleasure  in  praising. 
To  the  younger  artists  he  was  uniformly  kind  and  indulgent, 
and  most  liberal  of  his  advice ; which  no  one  ever  properly 
asked  but  he  received,  and  in  a manner  no  less  courteous 
than  impressive.  The  unbroken  kindness  and  friendship  with 
which  he  honoured  the  writer  of  this  imperfect  sketch  will 
never  be  forgotten. 

In  the  world  of  art,  Mr.  Stuart  has  left  a void  that  will  not 
soon  be  filled.  And  well  may  his  country  say,  “ a great  man 
has  passed  from  amongst  us  but  Gilbert  Stuart  has  be- 
queathed her  what  is  paramount  to  power — since  no  power 
can  command  it — the  rich  inheritance  of  his  fame. 

EARLE— 1775. 

In  the  year  1775  Mr.  Earle  painted  portraits  in  Connec- 
ticut. I remember  seeing  two  full-lengths  of  the  Rev. 
Timothy  Dwight  and  his  wife,  painted  in  1777,  as  Earle 
thought,  in  the  manner  of  Copley.  They  showed  some  ta- 
lent, but  the  shadows  were  black  as  charcoal  or  ink.  In  the 
year  1775,  Earle,  as  one  of  the  governor’s  guard  of  militia, 
was  marched  to  Cambridge,  and  soon  afterwards  to  Lexing- 
ton, where  he  made  drawings  of  the  scenery,  and  subsequently 
composed  the  first  historical  pictures,  perhaps,  ever  attempted 


224 


History  of  miniature-painting. 

in  America,  which  were  engraved  by  his  companion,  in  arms, 
Mr.  Amos  Doolittle.  Mr.  Earle  studied  under  the  direction 
of  Mr.  West,  immediately  after  the  independence  of  his  coun- 
try was  established,  and  returned  home  in  1786.  He  painted 
many  portraits  in  New- York,  and  more  in  Connecticut.  The 
time  of  his  death  is  unknown  to  us.  He  had  considerable 
merit — a breadth  of  light  and  shadow — facility  of  handling, 
and  truth  in  likeness,  but  he  prevented  improvement  and 
destroyed  himself  by  habitual  intemperance. 

CAMPBELL— 1776. 

In  a letter  from  General  Washington  to  Col.  Jos.  Reed,  he 
thanks  him  for  a picture  sent  by  him  to  Mrs.  Washington,  and 
meant  as  a portrait  of  the  general,  which  was  painted  by  a Mr. 
Campbell,  who  Washington  says  he  never  saw.  The  letter 
is  dated  from  Cambridge,  in  1776,  the  writer  says  the  painter 
has  “ made  a very  formidable  figure  of  the  Commander  in 
chief.” 


CHAPTER  XII. 

History  of  miniature-painting— John  Ramage — James  Peale — W.  Williams — 
Mather  Brown — Thomas  Spence  Duche — Bishop  Seabury’s  portrait — Robert 
Fulton—Thomas  Coram. 

Thts  department  of  art,  from  its  reduced  scale,  and  conse- 
quent minuteness,  does  not  fill  the  eye,  or  dazzle  the  imagina- 
tion, so  as  to  come  in  competition  with  the  higher  order  of  his- 
toric composition,  or  even  with  the  portraits  of  Titian,  or  Van- 
dyke, and  other  masters  who  painted  in  the  large  or  life  size, 
and  had  the  grandeur,  which  depends  so  much  upon  an  op- 
portunity of  giving  vigour  of  style  and  breadth  of  effect. 

It  nevertheless  possesses  many  advantages  for  the  objects  of 
portraiture,  peculiarly  its  own  ; and  is  equally  susceptible  of 
truth  in  resemblance,  and  beauty  of  execution  with  works 
executed  of  a large  size.  In  composition,  colour,  light,  and 
shadow,  it  is  governed  by  the  same  principles  as  other  depart- 
ments of  the  art,  and  is  capable  of  carrying  them  to  as  great  a 
degree  of  perfection. 

The  early  history  of  miniature-painting  is  extremely  obscure, 
and  so  completely  confounded  with  the  history  of  the  art  in 
general,  as  to  make  it  a matter  of  great  difficulty  to  sepa- 
rate it.* 


For  this  brief  history  of  the  art,  I am  indebted  to  T.  S.  Cummings,  Esq.  N.  A. 


2*5 


Older  miniature  painters. 

A consecutive  notice  of  the  practitioners  of  miniature  paint- 
ing would  be  more  than  our  limits  would  admit.  A sketch  of 
its  progress  is  all  I can  promise. 

The  first  mention  made  of  miniature  painters  in  the  annals 
of  legitimate  painting,  and  distinct  from  illuminators,  appears 
to  be  of  painters  in  oily  of  what  are  now  called  cabinet  pic- 
tures; for  such  a title  is  given  to  John  De  Laer,  a painter  in 
the  Dutch  school,  of  landscape  and  figures.  He  is,  by  the  his- 
torians, called  the  first  miniature  painter  of  his  time. 

This  definition  of  miniature-painting  is  wide  of  our  present 
purpose,  as  I shall  confine  my  remarks  to  those  only  who 
painted  in  water-colours  and  on  vellum,  paper  or  ivory  ; that 
is,  in  what  is  now  called  miniature-painting.  . 

The  earliest  artist,  coming  within  this  limit  is  Giotto,  an 
illuminator  of  manuscript ; which  practice  was  in  great  repute 
as  early  as  the  eleventh  century,  and  continued  so  to  the  end 
of  the  thirteenth.  Giotto  may  be  considered  the  founder  of 
miniature  painting,  or  at  least  it  received  so  much  improve- 
ment from  his  pencil,  as  to  entitle  him  to  the  credit  of  the  inven- 
tion. Baldinucci,  states  that  Giotto  executed  a series  of  his- 
tories from  the  old  testament,  in  miniature,  and  speaks  of  it  as 
a work  of  most  exquisite  minuteness  and  finish. 

I believe  the  general  practice  of  that  day  extended  no 
farther  than  neat  outlining,  filled  up  with  vermilion,  or  red 
lead.  Brightness  of  colour  and  gilding,  were  the  chief  ob- 
jects aimed  at  by  the  illuminators  of  manuscripts,  and  they 
frequently  succeeded  in  producing  the  most  dazzling  effects. 

The  introduction  of  the  art  of  printing  destroyed  the  fetters 
that  limited  knowledge  to  the  rich  only  ; and  of  course  de- 
stroyed this  expensive  mode  of  book  making.  What  resource 
the  miniature  painters  of  that  period  had  I know  not.  1 shall 
therefore  confine  myself  to  the  mere  notice  of  the  practice  of  illu- 
minating, and  pass  on  to  the  latter  part  of  the  sixteenth,  and  be- 
ginning of  the  seventeenth  century,  a time  when  we  find  minia- 
ture-painting in  great  repute  for  the  purpose  of  portraiture. 

Sir  Balthasar  Gerbier,  a miniature  painter  of  Antwerp,  visit- 
ed England  in  1613,  and  was  one  of  the  most  popular  painters 
of  his  day.  He  was  principal  painter  in  small  to  Charles  the 
First,  by  whom  he  was  knighted,  and  he  was  also  employed 
by  the  court  in  many  important  missions.  He  was  sent  to 
Flanders  to  negotiate  privately  a treaty  with  Spain,  the  very 
treaty  (remarks  Walpole,)  in  which  Rubens  was  commissioned 
on  the  part  of  the  Infanta,  and  for  which  end  that  great  painter 
visited  England. 


29 


226 


Cromwell's  miniature  by  Cooper . 

Of  the  English  miniature  painters  of  this  period,  none  rank- 
ed higher  than  Hilliard  and  Oliver;  “the  first  native  artists,” 
says  Walpole,  “ who  have  any  claims  to  distinction.”  Hilliard 
painted  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  which  procured  him  universal 
fame,  and  he  was  soon  after  appointed  principal  painter  in 
small  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  whose  picture  he  also  painted.  His 
works  are  celebrated  for  their  elaborate  finish,  and  their  force 
and  truth. 

About  this  time  also  flourished  Cooper,  called  the  Vandyke 
of  his  time  in  miniature.  That  sycophantic  coxcomb  Pepys 
quaintly  calls  him  “ the  great  limner  in  little .”  His  pencil  vvas 
generally  confined  to  a head  only  ; and  so  far  he  was  consi- 
dered to  surpass  all  others.  His  most  famous  production  is  the 
miniature  portrait  of  Oliver  Cromwell. 

“ This  miniature,”  says  Walpole,  “ enlarged  by  a magnify- 
ing glass,  will  compare  with  any  of  Vandyke’s  portraits,”  and 
he  believes  that  Vandyke  would  appear  less  great  by  the  com- 
parison. 

This  celebrated  picture  (as  well,  1 believe,  as  all  the  minia- 
tures of  this  period,)  is  painted  wholly  with  opaque  colours. 

The  exact  time  of  the  introduction  of  the  use  of  transparent 
colours,  as  now  practised,  is  difficult  to  ascertain.  The  drape- 
ries are  at  present  only  executed  in  opaque  pigments,  though 
the  French  school  still  retain  them  for  their  back-grounds,  as 
well  as  draperies. 

The  merit  of  first  painting  miniatures  in  transparent  colours 
is  accorded  by  some  to  Jeremiah  Myers,  an  English  artist.  T 
cheerfully  award  him  all  praise  for  the  introduction  of  a prac- 
tice which  contributes  so  much  to  give  ameZ  tranparency, 
tone,  and  at  the  same  time  depth  and  richness  to  this  interest- 
ing department  of  art. 

As  this  work  is  only  a record  of  American  artists,  or  such 
as  practised  their  art  in  America,  I conclude  this  sketch  of 
the  history  of  miniature-painting,  by  a notice  of  the  first  minia- 
ture-painter of  whom  I have  knowledge,  and  who  now  suc- 
ceeds in  chronological  arrangement. 

JOHN  RAMAGE— 1775. 

This  was  an  Irish  gentleman,  who  painted  miniatures  in  Bos- 
ton and  married  there.  He  left  it  with  the  British  troops,  and 
was  as  early  as  1777  established  in  William-street,  New-York, 
and  continued  to  paint  all  the  military  heroes  or  beaux  of  the 
garrison,  and  all  the  belles  of  the  place.  He  did  not  accompany 
the  army  when  it  left  our  shores,  but  continued  the  best  artist  in 
his  branch  for  many  years  after.  Mr.  Ramage  occasionally 


227 


Ramage — James  Peale—  Williams. 

painted  in  crayons  or  pastil,  the  size  of  life.  His  miniatures 
were  in  the  line  style,  as  opposed  to  the  dotted.  I admired 
them  much  in  the  days  of  youth,  and  my  opinion  of  their  merit 
is  confirmed,  by  seeing  some  of  them  recently.  Mr.  Ramage 
was  a handsome  man  of  the  middle  size,  with  an  intelligent  coun- 
tenance and  lively  eye.  He  dressed  fashionably,  and  according 
to  the  time,  beauishly.  A scarlet  coat  with  mother-of-pearl 
buttons — a white  silk  waistcoat  embroidered  with  coloured 
flowers  — black  satin  breeches  and  paste  knee-buckles — white 
silk  stockings— large  silver  buckles  in  his  shoes — a small 
cocked-hat,  covering  the  upper  portion  of  his  well  powdered 
locks,  leaving  the  curls  at  the  ears  displayed — a gold-headed 
cane  and  gold  snuff-box,  completed  his  costume.  When  the 
writer  returned  from  Europe  in  1787,  Mr.  Ramage  introduced 
to  him  a second  wife  ; but  he  was  changed,  .jmd  evidently  de- 
clining through  fast  living. 

JAMES  PEALE— 1775, 

who  had  been  taught  by  his  brother  Charles  Wilson,  painted 
during  the  war  of  the  revolution,  and  long  after  in  Philadel- 
phia, and  south  of  it.  His  principal  work  was  miniature,  but 
Le  painted  portraits  in  oil  we  believe  as  late  as  1 8 12.  We 
never  saw  any  of  them,  and  their  reputation  was  never  high. 
M r.  James  Peale  left  several  children  who  became  artists,  as 
did  those  of  his  brother  Charles,  also. 

WILLIAM  WILLIAMS— 1778, 
next  claims  our  attention.  He  was  a native  of  New-York.  He 
painted  portraits  in  crayon  or  pastil,  and  w hen  I knew  him 
lived  with  his  widowed  mother  in  the  extreme  suburbs  of  the 
city,  east  of  the  Collect,  where  Mott-street  is  now  built.  In 
the  year  1780  he  appeared  five-and-twenty  years  of  age.  His 
pictures  were  flat,  with  that  degree  of  likeness  which  entices 
certain  employers.  He  attempted  nothing  below7  the  head  and 
shoulders.  Still,  there  w7as  sufficient  skill  in  the  management 
of  his  pastils,  to  excite  a curiosity  in  respect  to  his  teacher.  He 
may  have  received  instruction  from  Copley,  who  painted  on 
crayon  pictures  in  New-York  in  1773,  or  he  may  have  taken 
lessons  from  Ramage  at  a later  period.  My  father  made  an 
arrangement  wTiih  Williams  to  teach  me,  but  after  two  or  three 
visits  the  teacher  was  not  to  be  found,  or  if  found,  was  unfit 
for  service  either  from  ebriety  or  its  effects.  He  was  at  this 
time  an  officer  in  the  militia,  as  enrolled  by  the  British. 

Will  iams  left  New-York  with  the  refugees  or  loyalists,  and 
settled  in  Halifax,  if  such  a man  could  be  settled.  In  the 


228 


Mallier  Brown. 


year  1814,  the  writer  being  then  in  the  paymaster’s  depart- 
ment, Williams  presented  himself  for  settlement  of  his  accounts, 
as  a quarter-master  of  sea-fencibles  in  the  U.  S.  service.  He 
was  old  and  almost  blind,  but  told  me  that  he  could  paint  better 
than  any  man  in  America.  This  is  the  last  1 know  of  William 
Williams,  whose  crayons,  though  not  his  instructions,  led  to 
my  practising  in  that  style. 

MATHER  BROWN— 1779. 

Mr.  Brown  about  this  year  painted  in  London.  In  the 
year  1785  he  appeared  to  have  full  employment,  and  painted 
much  (especially  theatrical  performers,)  on  speculation.  He 
had  several  large  pictures  in  the  exhibition  at  Somerset-house, 
figures  the  size  of  life,  representing  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pope,  in 
Beverley  and  wife  in  the  Gamester  ; and  Mrs.  Martyr,  in  the 
page  of  the  Follies  of  a Day,  and  other  like  compositions. 
They  were  hung  in  the  outer  room  at  Somerset- house,  and 
not  in  the  saloon  of  honour. 

Brown  was  not  highly  esteemed  as  a painter.  He  had  dis- 
gusted Stuart  by  some  meanness  of  conduct,  but  could  not 
easily  be  repulsed  from  his  house.  As  the  great  portrait-painter, 
then  in  the  blaze  of  popularity,  stood  looking  out  from  his 
front  window,  he  saw  Mather  Brown  pass,  look  at  him  and 
apply  to  the  knocker  of  his  door.  44  Say  I am  not  at  home,” 
was  the  order  to  the  servant.  44  Mr.  Stuart  is  not  at  home 
sir.”  44  Yes  he  is— I saw  him  at  the  window.”  44  Yes  sir, 
and  he  saw  you,  and  he  says  he  is  not  at  home.” 

Brown  was  born  in  America  about  the  year  1763,  and  his 
first  name,  Mather,  marks  him  as  from  Massachusetts.  He 
was  one  of  the  many  who  called  themselves  the  pupils  of  Ben- 
jamin West,  and  undoubtedly  received  his  instruction.  His 
father  was  probably  a loyalist  of  Boston,  and  left  America  at 
the  commencement  of  the  contest  for  liberty. 

Mr.  Allston  says,  44 1 am  pretty  sure  that  Mather  Brown 
was  a native  of  Boston.  I have  heard  that  he  was  the  son  of 
a celebrated  clock-maker — the  maker  of  the  4 old  south’  clock 
in  Boston,  which  is  said  to  be  an  uncommon  piece  of  mecha- 
nism. Leslie  must  be  mistaken  as  to  my  having  any  anec- 
dotes of  Mather  Brown.  If  I ever  had  any,  they  have  entirely 
escaped  from  my  mind  : I have  not  the  slightest  recollection 
of  one,  except  (if  it  may  be  called  an  anecdote,)  my  meeting 
him  once  at  Mr.  West’s  in  a cap-a-pie  suit  of  brown , even  to 
stockings,  wig  and  complexion.  He  must,  I think,  have  held 
a respectable  rank  as  an  artist,  as  I remember  that  he  lived  in 
either  Cavendish  or  Manchester-square.  But  for  myself,  | 


229 


Thomas  Spence  Duche. 

nave  not  sufficient  recollection  of  his  pictures,  to  express  any 
opinion  on  the  subject.15 

In  a letter  from  a person  in  London  to  his  friend  in  Boston, 
dated  March  6th,  1789,  are  these  words;  “Your  countryman 
Mather  Brown,  is  well,  and  in  the  highest  state  of  success. 
He  now  rents  a house  of  <£120  a year,  and  keeps  a servant  in 
Javery,  and  is  appointed  portrait-painter  to  his  royal  highness 
the  Duke  of  York.  He  has  a great  run  of  business,  and  has 
not  only  painted  a great  many  of  our  nobility,  but  also  tiie 
Prince  of  Wales.” 

In  answer  to  a question  put  to  Mr.  Leslie,  he  says  “ I was 
once  in  Mather  Brown’s  rodms,  and  a more  melancholy  dis- 
play of  imbecility  I never  witnessed.  Imagine  two  large  rooms 
crowded  with  pictures,  great  and  small,  historical  and  por- 
trait— in  some  places  several  files  deep.  I thought  of  Gay’s 
lines  : 

4 In  dusty  piles  his  pictures  lay. 

For  no  one  sent  the  second  pay.'’ 

Aud  in  all  this  waste  of  canvas  not  one  single  idea,  nor  any 
one  beauty  of  art.  He  seemed  to  possess  facility,  but  nothing 
else.  Those  of  his  canvasses  that  looked  most  like  pictures, 
exhibited  a feeble  imitation  of  the  manner  of  West,  but  wholly 
destitute  of  any  one  principle  of  his  master. 

He  told  me  that  when  a boy,  he  was  the  playfellow  of 
Raphael  West  and  young  Copley,  (now7  Lord  Lyndhurst,) 
and  that  he  and  Ralph  had  often,  while  bathing,  given  the 
chancellor  in  embryo  a ducking  in  the  Serpentine  river.” 

Another  loyalist’s  son  was  a cotemporary  pupil  and  painter 
with  Mather  Brown. 

THOS.  SPENCE  DUCHE. 

He  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  probably  about  1766.  His 
father  (who  as  a boy  was  a schoolmate  of  Benjamin  West,)  at 
the  time  of  colonial  opposition  to  Britain,  w as  well  known  as  a 
tory  clergyman,  and  removed  from  the  land  of  rebellion. 

The  grandfather  of  the  painter  was  a protestant  refugee 
from  France,  and  crossed  the  Atlantic  with  William  Penn. — 
During  the  voyage  Penn  borrowed  twenty  pounds  of  the 
Frenchman  ; and  when  they  arrived  in  Pennsylvania,  offered 
him,  as  payment,  a square  in  his  city  of  Philadelphia,  mean- 
ing thereby  to  show  his  friendship.  Duche,  however,  very 
courteously  refused,  saying,  he  “ would  rather  have  the  mo- 
ney.” “ Blockhead  !”  said  Penn,  “ thou  shalt  have  the 
money;  but  canst  thou  not  see  that  this  will  be  a great  city 
in  a little  time  ?”  Duche  afterwards  frankly  acknowledged 


230 


Bishop  Sam.  Seabury' s portrait. 

that  he  had  proved  himself  a blockhead,  when  he  saw  the 
square  he  had  refused,  as  an  equivalent  for  twenty  pounds, 
sold  for  as  many  thousands. 

Watson,  the  antiquary,  of  Pennsylvania,  says,  “ that  an 
aged  woman,  who  gained  a subsistence  by  selling  cakes,  re- 
membered that  her  grandfather  had  received  the  ground  now 
occupied  by  the  Bank  of  the  United  States  in  Philadelphia, 
together  with  half  the  square,  for  his  services  as  chain-bearer, 
in  surveying  the  site  of  the  intended  city.  She  had  lived  to 
see  the  Bank  erected  on  a part  of  it,  bought  for  that  purpose 
with  one  hundred  thousand  dollars!” 

But  we  have  lost  sight  of  Duche  the  painter,  wdio,  as  a 
Pennsylvanian  and  the  son  of  an  old  school-fellow,  had  pecu- 
liar claims  on  the  attention  and  instruction  of  Benjamin  West ; 
but,  as  we  have  seen,  the  benevolence  of  West  was  not  con- 
fined within  narrow  limits. 

We  know  very  little  of  the  subject  >f  this  memoir.  His  picture 
of  Bishop  Seabury,  the  first  of  the  three  episcopal  clergymen 
who,  for  the  purpose  of  being  raised  to  the  episcopacy,  and 
thereby  be  enabled  to  build  up  and  sustain  the  church,  with- 
out further  reference  to  the  hierarchy  of  England,  were  sent 
to  England  soon  after  the  peace  of  1783,  is  well  known  from 
Sharpe’s  engraving  from  it.  The  original  picture  is  now  at 
Washington  College,  Hartford,  Connecticut. 

The  three  gentlemen  abovementioned  were,  White  of  Penn- 
sylvania, Provost  of  New  York,  and  Seabury  of  Connecti- 
cut. Mr.  Duche  likewise  painted  the  portrait  of  Bishop  Pro- 
vost, now  in  possession  of  the  family  of  the  late  Cadwallader 
Colden,  Esq.  The  engraving,  by  Sharpe,  of  Bishop  Seabury, 
is  dedicated  to  Benj.  West,  by  his  grateful  friend  and  pupil. 

Duche,  the  clergyman,  preached  at  a chapel  on  the  Surry 
side  of  the  Thames,  near  Blackfriars’  Bridge,  and  it  was  fash- 
ionable to  go  to  hear  him.  An  American  lady,  very  pretty, 
but  very  pale, when  not  assisted  bv  art,  said,  “ We  heard  Parson 
D uche  yesterday  : and  I saw  his  son  too,  a fine,  handsome 
young  man.”  “Ah!  did  you  ? he  paints.”  “ Is  it  possible  ?” 
“ Well,  I thought  his  colour  unnatural.”  Thus  conscience 
not  only  makes  cowards,  but  suspicious  cowards  of  us  all. 

ROBERT  FULTON— 1782, 

Was  guilty  of  painting  poor  portraits  in  Philadelphia,  in  the 
year  1782,  and  is  therefore  our  next  subject.  The  parents  of 
this  gentleman  were  of  Irish  origin  : the  father,  a native  of 
Kilkenny  ; the  mother,  a Pennsylvanian,  byname  Smith,  and 
descended  from  Hibernian  emigrants.  Robert  was  the  oldest 


Robert  Fulton. 


231 


of  two  sons  : be  had  three  sisters,  two  older  than  himself.  He 
was  born  in  Little  Britain,  in  the  county  of  Lancaster,  Penn- 
sylvania, in  1765,  and  showed  early  indications  of  his  attach- 
ment to  mechanics ; but  was,  as  a youth,  still  more  devoted  to 
the  pencil.  He  commenced  the  painting  of  portraits  and  land- 
scapes, as  a profession,  at  the  age  of  seventeen  ; that  is,  in  the 
year  1782;  and  continued  so  employed  until  1785.  During 
this  period  Charles  Wilson  Peale  was  the  principal  painter  in 
that  city,  until  Pine’s  arrival  ; and  doubtless  Fulton  did  not 
neglect  the  instruction  to  be  derived  from  them  and  their  pic- 
tures.* 

Robert  Fulton,  at  the  age  of  21,  had,  by  his  industry  and 
frugality,  enabled  himself  to  purchase  a little  farm  in  Penn- 
sylvania, on  which  he  established  his  mother  ; and  soon  after 
crossed  the  Atlantic,  to  seek  instruction  from  Benjamin  West. 
That  Mr.  West  justly  appreciated  the  character  of  his  young 
countryman,  is  attested  by  his  presenting  him  with  two  pic- 
tures ; one  representing  the  great  painter,  with  his  wife’s  por- 
trait on  his  esel ; and  the  other,  Fulton’s  own  portrait. 

Mr.  Fulton,  perhaps  by  invitation,  practised  as  a portrait 
painter  in  Devonshire,  and  here  appears  to  have  revived  his 
attachment  to  mechanics.  Canal  navigation  attracted  his  at- 
tention, as  he  here  became  acquainted  with  the  Duke  of  Bridg- 
water, and  they  became  united  by  their  mutual  love  ofscience. 
Lord  Stanhope  and  Fulton  were  attracted  to  each  other  by 
similar  propensities.  In  1 793  was  published  a print,  engraved 
by  Sherwin,  from  a picture,  by  Fulton,  of  LouisXVI.  in  prison, 
taking  leave  of  his  family.  The  only  copy  I have  seen  is  pos- 
sessed by  my  friend  Dr.  Francis  : it  is  now  a curiosity.  As 
early  as  1793,  Fulton’s  mind  was  engaged  in  projects  to  im- 
prove inland  navigation.  In  1794  he  obtained  a patent  for  a 
double  inclined  plane,  and  other  patents,  from  the  British  gov- 
ernment. For  eighteen  months  he  resided  in  Birmingham, 
and  improved  his  knowledge  of  mechanics  in  that  great  work- 
shop. 

In  1795  he  published  several  essays,  which  elicited  the  com- 
pliments and  recommendations  of  Sir  John  Sinclair  and  the 
Board  of  Agriculture.  The  profession  of  a painter  was  aban- 
doned, and  his  knowledge  of  the  art  of  design  applied  to 
drawings  on  the  subjects  which  now  engaged  his  mind. 


* “ Robert  Fulton,”  says  Edward  Everitt,  “ was  a portrait  painter  in  Penn- 
sylvania, without  friends  or  fortune.”  A school-fellow  of  Fulton  says,  “ Robert 
Fulton  was  a school-boy  in  Lancaster,  Pennsylvania;  his  mother  then  a widow. 
He  borrowed  paints  and  brushes  of  another,  and  soon  excelled,  but  neglected  his 
books.  He  was  sent  to  Philadelphia,  to  a silversmith  ; but  not  liking,  he  went 
to  London.” 


232 


Torpedoes . 

In  the  year  1797  Mr.  Fulton  had  apartments  in  the  same 
Parisian  hotel  with  Joel  Barlow  ; and  a friendship  was  then 
formed  between  these  two  eminently  gifted  and  amiable  indi- 
viduals whieh  was  only  broken  by  death.  When  Mr.  Barlow 
established  himself  in  a style  befitting  his  public  station*  in  a 
hotel  appropriated  to  himself  and  lady,  he  invited  Fulton  to 
make  one  of  his  family.  Here  he  resided  seven  years,  during: 
which  he  studied  the  modern  languages  and  the  higher 
branches  of  science.  During  this  time  Fulton  also  projected  a 
panorama,  in  imitation  of  Barker.  It  had  some  success,  and 
is  said  to  have  been  the  first  seen  in  Paris.  But  his  mind  was 
occupied  with  other  projects,  particularly  the  explosion  of 
gunpowder  under  water.  His  torpedoes  were  offered  to  the 
French  and  Dutch  governments  ; and  when  Bonaparte  be- 
came first  consul,  he  appointed  a commission  to  examine  Ful- 
ton’s plans  and  assist  in  making  experiments. 

When  chancellor  Livingston  arrived  in  Paris,  the  intimacy 
between  him  and  Fulton  commenced,  which  led  to  the  fulfil- 
ment of  his  destinies,  by  the  accomplishment  of  steam  naviga- 
tion. 

If  the  failure  of  Mr.  Fulton’s,  schemes  for  the  destruction  of 
ships  of  war,  by  torpedoes,  fixed  his  attention  upon  navigating 
vessels  by  steam,  we  may  congratulate  the  world  that  the  con- 
flicting nations  of  Europe,  to  whom  with  perfect  indifference 
lie  seems  to  have  offered  his  projects  and  services,  for  the  des- 
truction of  their  enemies,  did  not  accept  of  them.  If,  as 
we  believe,  the  views  of  Mr.  Fulton  were  to  banish  naval 
warfare  from  the  world,  perhaps  that  change  which  will  take 
place  in  defensive  warfare,  by  the  use  of  the  steam  frigate, 
such  as  Fulton  built  at  New-York,  in  harbours  and  on  coasts, 
may  go  far  to  answer  the  same  end. 

In  J801  Mr.  Fulton  repaired  to  Brest,  to  make  experiments 
with  the  plunging  boat  he  had  constructed  the  preceding 
winter.  This,  as  he  says,  had  many  imperfections,  natural  to 
a first  machine  of  such  complicated  combinations.  Added  to 
this,  it  had  suffered  much  injury  from  rust,  in  consequence  of 
his  having  been  obliged  to  use  iron  instead  of  brass  or  copper, 
for  bolts  and  arbours. 

Notwithstanding  these  disadvantages,  he  engaged  in  a 
course  of  experiments  with  the  machine,  which  required  no 
less  courage  than  energy  and  perseverance.  Of  his  proceed- 
ings, he  made  a report  to  the  committee  appointed  by  the 
French  executive  ; from  which  report  we  learn  the  following* 
Iliteresting  facts  : 

Oh  the  3d  July,  1801,  he  embarked  with  three  companions 


233 


The  plunging  machine. 

on  board  his  plunging  boat  in  the  harbour  of  Brest,  and  de- 
scended in  it  to  the  depth  of  five,  ten,  fifteen,  and  so  to 
twenty-five  feet ; but  he  did  not  attempt  to  go  lower,  because 
he  found  that  his  imperfect  machine  would  not  bear  the  pressure 
of  a greater  depth.  He  remained  below  the  surface  one  hour. 
During  this  time  they  were  in  utter  darkness.  Afterwards  he 
descended  with  candles ; but  finding  a great  disadvantage 
from  their  consumption  of  vital  air,  he  caused  previously  to 
his  next  experiment,  a small  window  of  thick  glass  to  be  made 
near  the  bow  of  his  boat,  and  he  again  descended  with  her 
on  the  24th  of  July,  1801.  He  found  that  he  received  from 
his  window,  or  rather  aperture  covered  with  glass,  for  it  was 
no  more  than  an  inch  and  a half  in  diameter,  sufficient  light  to 
enable  him  to  count  the  minutes  on  his  watch.  Having  satis- 
fied himself  that  he  could  have  sufficient  light  when  under 
water  ; that  he  could  do  without  a supply  of  fresh  air  for  a 
considerable  time  ; that  he  could  descend  to  any  depth,  and 
rise  to  the  surface  with  facility ; his  next  object  was  to  try  her 
movements,  as  well  on  the  surface  as  beneath  it.  On  the  26th 
of  July,  he  weighed  his  anchor  and  hoisted  his  sails:  his  boat 
had  one  mast,  a mainsail,  and  jib.  There  was  only  a light 
breeze,  and  therefore  she  did  not  move  on  the  surface  at  more 
than  the  rate  of  two  miles  an  hour  ; but  it  was  found  that  she 
would  tack  and  steer,  and  sail  on  a wind  or  before  it,  as  well  as 
any  common  sailing  boat.  He  then  struck  her  mast  and 
sails;  to  do  which,  and  perfectly  to  prepare  the  boat  for 
plunging,  required  about  two  minutes.  Having  plunged  to 
a certain  depth,  he  placed  two  men  at  the  engine,  which  was 
intended  to  give  her  progressive  motion,  and  one  at  the  helm, 
while  he,  with  a barometer  before  him,  governed  the  machine, 
which  kept  her  balanced  between  the  upper  and  lower  waters. 
He  found  that  with  the  exertion  of  one  hand  only,  he  could 
keep  her  at  any  depth  he  pleased.  The  propelling  engine  was 
then  put  in  motion,  and  he  found  upon  coming  to  the  surface, 
that  he  had,  in  about  seven  minutes,  made  a progress  of  four 
hundred  meters,  or  above  five  hundred  yards.  He  then 
again  plunged,  turned  her  round  while  under  water,  and 
returned  to  near  the  place  he  began  to  move  from.  He  repeated 
his  experiments  several  days  successively,  until  he  became 
familiar  with  the  operation  of  the  machinery,  and  the  move- 
ments of  the  boat.  He  found  that  she  was  as  obedient  to  her 
helm  under  water,  as  any  boat  could  be  on  the  surface  ; and 
that  the  magnetic  needle  traversed  as  well  in  the  one  situation 
as  the  other. 

u On  the  7th  of  August,  Mr.  Fulton  again  descended  with  a 

30 


234 


Experiments. 

store  of  atmospheric  air,  compressed  into  a copper  globe  of  a 
cubic  foot  capacity,  into  which,  two  hundred  atmospheres  were 
forced.  Thus  prepared  he  descended  with  three  companions 
to  the  depth  of  about  five  feet.  At  the  expiration  of  an  hour 
and  forty  minutes,  he  began  to  take  small  supplies  o f pure  air 
from  his  reservoir,  and  did  so  as  he  found  occasion,  for  four 
hours  and  twenty  minutes.  At  the  expiration  of  this  time  he 
came  to  the  surface,  without  having  experienced  any  inconve- 
nience from  having  been  so  long  under  water. 

“ Mr.  Fulton  was  highly  satisfied  with  the  success  of  these 
experiments  ; it  determined  him  to  attempt  to  try  the  effects  of 
these  inventions  on  the  English  ships,  which  were  then  block- 
ading the  coast  of  France,  and  were  daily  near  the  harbour  of 
Brest. 

“ His  boat  at  this  time  he  called  the  submarine  boat,  or  the 
plunging  boat ; he  afterwards  gave  it  the  name  of  the  Nauti- 
lus; connected  with  this  machine,  were  what  he  then  called 
submarine  bombs,  to  which  he  has  since  given  the  name  of 
torpedoes.  This  invention  preceded  the  Nautilus.  It  was, 
indeed,  his  desire  of  discovering  the  means  of  applying  his 
torpedoes,  that  turned  his  thoughts  to  a submarine  boat. 
Satisfied  with  the  performance  of  his  boat,  his  next  object  was 
to  make  some  experiments  with  the  torpedoes.  A small  shal- 
lop was  anchored  in  the  roads,  with  a bomb  containing  about 
twenty  pounds  of  powder ; he  approached  to  within  about 
two  hundred  yards  of  the  anchored  vessel,  struck  her  with  the 
torpedo  and  blew  her  into  atoms.  A column  of  water  and 
fragments  was  blown  from  eighty  to  one  hundred  feet  in  the 
air.  This  experiment  was  made  in  the  presence  of  the  prefect 
of  the  department,  Admiral  Villaret,  and  a multitude  of 
spectators. 

“ The  experimental  boat  of  Mr.  Livingston  and  Mr.  Fulton, 
was  completed  early  in  the  spring  of  1 808  : they  w ere  on  the 
point  of  making  an  experiment  with  her,  when  one  morning 
as  Mr.  Fulton  was  rising  from  a bed,  in  which  anxiety  had 
given  him  but  little  rest,  a messenger  from  the  boat,  whose 
precipitation  and  apparent  consternation,  announced  that  he 
was  the  bearer  of  bad  tidings,  presented  himself  to  him,  and 
exclaimed  in  accents  of  despair,  “ Oh,  sir,  the  boat  has  broken 
in  pieces,  and  gone  to  the  bottom.”  Mr.  Fulton,  who  him- 
self related  the  anecdote,  declared  that  this  news  created  a 
despondency  which  he  had  never  felt  on  any  other  occasion  ; 
but  this  was  only  a momentary  sensation.  Upon  examina- 
tion, he  found  that  the  boat  had  been  too  weakly  framed  to 
bear  the  great  weight  of  the  machinery,  and  that  in  conse- 
quence of  an  agitation  of  the  river  by  the  w ind  the  preceding 


235 


Plunging  boat  destroyed  and  rebuilt. 

night,  what  the  messenger  had  represented  had  literally  hap- 
pened. The  boat  had  broken  in  two,  and  the  weight  of  her 
machinery  had  carried  her  fragments  to  the  bottom.  It 
appeared  to  him,  as  he  said,  that  the  fruits  of  so  many  months’ 
labour,  and  so  much  expense,  were  annihilated ; and  an 
opportunity  of  demonstrating  the  efficacy  of  his  plan  was 
denied  him  at  the  moment  he  had  promised  it  should  be  dis- 
played. His  disappointment  and  feelings  may  easily  be 
imagined  ; but  they  did  not  check  his  perseverance.  On  the 
very  day  that  this  misfortune  happened,  he  commenced 
repairing  it.  He  did  not  sit  down  idly  to  repine  at  misfor- 
tunes which  his  manly  exertions  might  remedy,  or  waste,  in 
fruitless  lamentations,  a moment  of  that  time  in  which  the 
accident  might  be  repaired.  Without  returning  to  his  lodg- 
ings, he  immediately  began  to  labour  with  his  own  hands  to 
raise  the  boat,  and  worked  for  four  and  twenty  hours  incessantly, 
without  allowing  himself  rest,  or  taking  refreshment ; an  im- 
prudence, which,  as  he  always  supposed,  had  a permanent  bad 
effect  on  his  constitution,  and  to  which  he  imputed  much  of 
his  subsequent  bad  health. 

“ The  accident  did  the  machinery  very  little  injury  ; but  they 
were  obliged  to  build  the  boat  almost  entirely  new  ; she  was 
completed  in  July  : her  length  was  sixty-six  feet,  and  she  was 
eight  feet  wide.  Early  in  August,  Mr.  Fulton  addressed  a 
letter  to  the  French  national  institute,  inviting  them  to  witness 
a trial  of  his  boat,  which  was  made  in  their  presence,  and  in 
the  presence  of  a great  multitude  of  the  Parisians.  The 
experiment  was  entirely  satisfactory  to  Mr.  Fulton,  though 
the  boat  did  not  move  altogether  with  as  much  speed  as  he 
expected.  But  he  imputed  her  moving  so  slowly  to  the  ex- 
tremely defective  fabrication  of  the  machinery,  and  to  imper- 
fections which  were  to  be  expected  in  the  first  experiment  with 
so  complicated  a machine  ; but  which  he  saw  might  be  easily 
remedied.” 

Mr.  Fulton  returned  home  in  1806,  and  renewed  his  efforts 
to  prove  that  he  could  destroy  vessels  by  invisible  means,  and 
the  next  year  he  made  an  experiment  upon  a hulk,  anchored 
in  New-York  harbour  for  the  purpose.  The  owner  of  the 
hulk  having  consented,  the  experiment  was  fully  successful. 
In  1810,  the  United  States  made  an  appropriation  for  trying 
the  effect  of  torpedoes  and  other  submarine  explosions.  The 
experiments  were  made  upon  the  sloop  of  war  Argus,  Capt. 
Lawrence,  but  as  she  did  not  consent,  the  experiment  failed. 
Mr.  Fulton’s  friends  still  thought,  or  said,  that  the  experiments 
would  be  successful.  Commodore  Rogers  thought  and  re- 
ported them  altogether  impracticable. 


236 


Fulton's  first  steam-boat. 


We  all  know  that  Fulton  was  not  the  first  who  propelled 
a boat  by  steam,  but  we  know  that  we  owe  to  him  those 
inventions  which  remedied  the  failures  of  former  experiment- 
ers, and,  in  fact,  by  his  genius  and  skill,  created  the  steam- 
boat. Fulton  was  assisted  by  friends,  with  advice  and 
funds  ; but  Fulton’s  was  the  mind  and  the  perseverance  which 
gave  to  the  world  a mode  of  conveyance  for  speed,  ease,  and 
certainty  so  powerful  in  its  influence  on  travelling  and  com- 
merce, as  to  have  advanced  civilization  on  its  destined 
progress  beyond  any  former  gift  bestowed  on  man,  printing 
excepted.  He  thus  writes  to  his  friend  Joel  Barlow:  “ New- 
York,  Aug.  2,  1807.  My  dear  friend,  my  steam-boat  voyage 
to  Albany  and  back,  has  turned  out  rather  more  favourable 
than  I had  calculated.  The  distance  from  New-York  to 
Albany  is  150  miles  ; I ran  it  up  in  thirty-two  hours,  and 
down  in  thirty  hours,  the  latter  is  five  miles  an  hour.  I had 
a light  breeze  against  me  the  whole  way  going  and  coming,  so 
that  no  use  was  made  of  my  sails,  and  the  voyage  has  been 
performed  wholly  by  the  power  of  the  steam  engine.  I over- 
took many  sloops  and  schooners,  beating  to  windward,  and 
passed  them  as  if  they  had  been  at  anchor. 

“The  power  of  propelling  boats  by  steam  is  now  fully  proved. 
The  morning  I left  New-York,  there  was  not  perhaps  thirty 
persons  who  believed  that  the  boat  would  move  one  mile  an 
hour,  or  be  of  the  least  utility;  and  while  we  were  putting  off 
from  the  wharf,  which  was  crowded  with  spectators,  I heard  a 
number  of  sarcastic  remarks.  This  is  the  way  you  know,  in 
which  ignorant  men  compliment  what  they  call  philosophers 
and  projectors. 

“ Having  employed  much  time,  and  money,  and  zeal,  in  ac- 
complishing this  work,  it  gave  me,  as  it  will  you,  great  pleasure 
to  see  it  so  fully  answer  my  expectations.  It  will  give  a cheap 
and  quick  conveyance  to  merchandise  on  the  Mississippi  and 
Missouri,  and  other  great  rivers,  which  are  now  laying  open 
their  treasures  to  the  enterprise  of  our  countrymen.  And  al- 
though the  prospect  of  personal  emolument  has  been  some  in- 
ducement to  me,  yet  I feel  infinitely  more  pleasure  in  reflecting 
with  you  on  the  immense  advantage  my  country  will  derive 
from  the  invention.” 

Thus  the  first  voyage,  and  that  perfectly  successful,  was  made 
in  thirty-two  hours  from  New-York  to  Albany.  In  consequence 
of  this  first  voyage  it  is  now  made  in  nine. 

Surely  the  discoverer  enjoys  a pleasure  greater  and  purer 
than  any  other  human  being  can  enjoy.  We  mean  the  disco- 
verer who  has  just  views  of  the  great  advantages  which  will 


237 


Submarine  guns  and  steam  frigate. 

result  from  the  successful  termination  of  his  researches.  Not 
to  mention  many  others — let  us  reflect  upon  the  pure  and  in- 
tense joy  of  Columbus,  when  he  landed  on  St.  Salvador — of 
Franklin,  when  he  succeeded  in  drawing  the  lightning,  inno- 
cuous, from  the  thunder  cloud — of  Worcester,  when  convinced 
of  the  power  of  steam — and  of  Fulton,  when  he  saw,  felt,  knew, 
that  he  could  triumph  over  winds  and  tides,  by  machinery  of 
his  own  invention — when  he  heard  the  acclamations  of  the 
scoffers,  and  received  the  praises  of  the  wise. 

“He  published  his  work,  entitled  ‘Torpedo  War,  or  Sub- 
marine Explosions.’  He  adopted  as  a motto  for  his  publica- 
tion, his  favourite  sentiment,  “ The  liberty  of  tire  seas  will  be 
the  happiness  of  the  earth.”  He  addressed  it  to  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  and  to  the  members  of  both  houses  of  con- 
gress : It  contained  a description  of  the  experiments  he  had 
made,  of  his  engines  as  he  had  improved  them,  and  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  they  might  be  used.  He  expressed  the  most  san- 
guine expectations  as  to  the  effects  they  would  produce,  when 
they  had  attained  the  improvements,  of  which  he  believed  them 
capable,  and  had  the  advantage  of  practice,  by  which  gunnery, 
and  other  modes  of  warfare,  had  been  brought  to  their  present 
perfection.”  Fulton’s  ideas  respecting  submarine  guns,  led  to 
the  invention  of  the  steam  frigate. 

“ He  communicated  to  Mr.  Jefferson  an  account  of  his  ex- 
periments on  submarine  firing,  with  drawings  of  his  various 
plans.  Mr.  Jefferson  expressed  himself  much  pleased  with  this 
novel  mode  of  maritime  warfare,  and  assured  Mr.  Fulton  that 
he  would  recommend  it  to  the  attention  of  government. 

“It  is  curious  to  observe  how7  Mr.  Fulton’s  projects  grew  one 
out  of  another. 

“The  submarine  guns  gave  rise  to  the  steam  man-of-war. 

“It  having  been  suggested,  by  a distinguished  naval  officer 
before  alluded  to,  that  in  approaching  an  enemy  so  near  as  w7as 
necessary  to  give  effect  to  submarine  cannon,  the  vessel  if  she 
was  rigged  in  the  ordinary  way,  would  be  liable  to  be  entan- 
gled with  her  adversary ; to  meet  this  objection,  Mr.  Fulton 
proposed  to  move  the  vessel  by  steam.  His  reflections  on  this 
project,  and  what  he  saw  of  the  performance  of  so  large  a 
vessel  as  the  Fulton,  her  speed,  and  the  facility  with  which  she 
w as  managed,  led  him  to  conceive,  that  a vessel  of  war  might 
be  constructed,  in  which,  to  all  the  advantages  possessed  by 
those  now  in  use,  might  be  added  the  very  important  ones 
which  she  would  derive  from  being  propelled  by  steam,  as  well 
as  by  the  winds.” 

The  character  of  Mr.  Fulton  is  elucidated  by  an  incident 
given  thus  in  Colden’s  life  of  him 


238  Perpetual  motion  stopped. 

“We  must  all  remember  how  long,  and  how  successfully, 
RedhefTer  had  deluded  the  Pennsylvanians  by  his  perpetual 
motion. 

“ Many  men  of  ingenuity,  learning,  and  science  had  seen 
the  machine:  some  had  written  on  the  subject;  not  a few  of 
these  were  his  zealous  advocates  ; and  others,  though  they  were 
afraid  to  admit  that  he  had  made  a discovery  which  violated 
what  were  believed  to  be  the  established  laws  of  nature,  appear- 
ed also  afraid  to  deny  what  the  incessant  motion  of  his  wheels 
and  weights  seemed  to  prove.  These  contrived  ingenious 
theories,  which  were  hardly  less  wonderful  than  the  perpetual 
motion  itself.  They  supposed  that  RedhefTer  had  discovered 
a means  of  developing  gradually  some  hidden  power,  which 
though  it  could  not  give  motion  to  his  machine  for  ever,  would 
keep  it  going  for  some  period,  which  they  did  not  pretend  to 
determine. 

“ One  of  these  perpetual  motions  commenced  its  career  in 
this  city*  in  eighteen  hundred  and  thirteen.  Mr.  Fulton  was  a 
perfect  unbeliever  in  Redheffer’s  discovery,  and  although  hun- 
dreds were  daily  paying  their  dollar  to  see  the  wonder,  Mr. 
F ulton  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  for  some  time  to  follow  the 
crowd.  After  a few  days,  however,  he  was  induced  by  some  of 
his  friends  to  visit  the  machine.  It  was  in  an  isolated  house  in 
the  suburbs  of  the  city. 

“ In  a very  short  time  after  Mr.  Fulton  had  entered  the 
room  in  which  it  was  exhibited,  he  exclaimed,  ‘ Why,  this  is  a 
crank  motion.’  His  ear  enabled  him  to  distingish  that  the 
machine  was  moved  by  a crank,  which  always  gives  an  unequal 
power,  and  therefore  an  unequal  velocity  in  the  course  of  each 
revolution  : and  a nice  and  practised  ear  may  perceive  that  the 
sound  is  not  uniform.  If  the  machine  had  been  kept  in  motion 
by  what  was  its  ostensible  moving  power,  it  must  have  had  an 
equable  rotary  motion,  and  the  sound  would  have  been  always 
the  same. 

“ After  some  little  conversation  with  the  show-man,  Mr. 
Fulton  did  not  hesitate  to  declare,  that  the  machine  was  an  im- 
position, and  to  tell  the  gentleman  that  he  was  an  impostor. 

“Notwithstanding  the  anger  and  bluster  which  these  charges 
excited,  he  assured  the  company  that  the  thing  was  a cheat, 
and  that  if  they  would  support  him  in  the  attempt,  he  would 
detect  it  at  the  risk  of  paying  any  penalty  if  he  failed. 

“ Having  obtained  the  assent  of  all  who  were  present,  he 
began  by  knocking  away  some  very  thin  little  pieces  of  lath, 


* New-York. 


Mr.  Fulton's  illness. 


239 


which  appeared  to  be  no  part  of  the  machinery,  but  to  go  from 
the  frame  of  the  machine  to  the  wall  of  the  room,  merely  to 
keep  the  corner  posts  of  the  machine  steady. 

“ It  was  found  that  a catgut  string  was  led  through  one  of 
these  laths  and  the  frame  of  the  machine,  to  the  head  of  the 
upright  shaft  of  a principal  wheel : that  the  catgut  was  con- 
ducted through  the  wall,  and  along  the  floors  of  the  second 
story  to  a back  cock-loft,  at  a distance  of  a number  of  yards 
from  the  room  which  contained  the  machine,  and  there  was 
found  the  moving  power.  This  was  a poor  old  wretch  with 
an  immense  beard,  and  all  the  appearance  of  having  suffered 
a long  imprisonment ; who,  when  they  broke  in  upon  him, 
was  unconscious  of  what  had  happened  below,  and  who,  while 
he  was  seated  on  a stool,  gnawing  a crust,  was  with  one  hand 
turning  a crank. 

“ The  proprietor  of  the  perpetual  motion  soon  disappeared. 
The  mob  demolished  his  machine,  the  destruction  of  which 
immediately  put  a stop  to  that  which  had  been,  for  so  long  a 
time,  and  to  so  much  profit,  exhibited  in  Philadelphia.” 

In  the  year  1806,  Mr.  Fulton  married  Miss  Harriet  Living- 
ston, daughter  of  Walter  Livingston,  Esq.  One  son  and 
three  daughters  were  the  fruit  of  his  marriage.  In  1815,  Mr. 
Fulton  was  examined  as  a witness  in  a steam-boat  cause,  at 
Trenton. 

“ When  he  was  crossing  the  Hudson  to  return  to  his  house 
and  family,  the  river  was  very  full  of  ice,  which  occasioned  his 
being  several  hours  on  the  water  in  a very  severe  day.  Mr. 
Fulton  had  not  a constitution  to  encounter  such  exposure,  and 
upon  his  return  he  found  himself  much  indisposed  from  the 
effects  of  it.  He  had  at  that  time  great  anxiety  about  the 
steam-frigate,  and,  after  confining  himself  fora  few  days,  when 
he  was  convalescent,  he  went  to  give  his  superintendence  to 
the  artificers  employed  about  her : he  forgot  his  debilitated 
state  of  health  in  the  interest  he  took  in  what  was  doing  on 
the  frigate,  and  was  a long  time,  in  a bad  day,  exposed  to  the 
weather  on  her  decks.  He  soon  found  the  effects  of  this  im- 
prudence. His  indisposition  returned  upon  him  with  such  vio- 
lence as  to  confine  him  to  his  bed.  His  disorder  increased, 
and  on  the  twenty-fourth  day  of  February,  eighteen  hundred 
and  fifteen,  terminated  his  valuable  life. 

“ It  was  not  known  that  Mr.  Fulton’s  illness  was  dangerous, 
till  a very  short  time  before  his  death,  which  was  unexpected 
by  his  friends,  and  still  more  so  by  the  community.  As  soon 
as  it  was  known,  all  means  were  taken  to  testify,  publicly,  the 
universal  regret  at  his  loss,  and  respect  for  his  memory.  The 


240 


Fulton’s  death  and  burial. 


newspapers  that  announced  the  event,  had  those  marks  of 
mourning,  which  are  usual  in  our  country  when  they  notice  the 
death  of  public  characters.  The  corporation  of  our  city,  the 
different  literary  institutions,  and  other  societies,  assembled,  and 
passed  resolutions  expressing  their  estimation  of  his  worth,  and 
regret  at  his  loss.  They  also  determined  to  attend  his  funeral, 
and  that  the  members  should  wear  badges  of  mourning  for  a 
certain  time. 

“ As  soon  as  the  legislature,  which  was  then  in  session  at 
Albany,  heard  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Fulton,  they  expressed  their 
participation  in  the  general  sentiment,  by  resolving  that  the 
members  of  both  houses  should  wear  mourning  for  some 
weeks. 

“ This  is  the  only  instance,  we  believe,  of  such  public  testi- 
monials of  regret,  esteem,  and  respect,  being  offered  on  the 
death  of  a private  citizen,  who  never  held  any  office,  and  was 
only  distinguished  by  his  virtues,  his  genius,  and  the  employ- 
ment of  his  talents. 

“He  was  buried  on  the  twenty-fifth  day  of  February,  eighteen 
hundred  and  fifteen.  His  corpse  was  attended  from  his  last 
residence,  (No.  1 State-street,)  by  all  the  officers  of  the  national 
and  state  governments,  then  in  the  city,  by  the  magistracy, 
the  common  council,  a number  of  societies,  and  a greater  num- 
ber of  citizens  than  have  been  collected  on  any  similar  occasion. 
From  the  time  the  procession  began  to  move,  till  it  arrived  at 
Trinity  Church,  minute  guns  were  fired  from  the  steam-frigate 
and  the  West  Battery.  His  body,  in  a leaden  coffin,  covered 
with  plain  mahogany,  on  which  is  a metal  plate  engraved  wiih 
his  name  and  age,  is  deposited  in  a vault  belonging  to  the 
Livingston  family.” 

As  a painter  Mr.  Fulton  does  not  rank  high.  Probably  his 
best  picture  is  the  portrait  of  . his  friend  Barlow.  We  owe  to 
him  the  splendid  edition  of  Barlow’s  Columbiad.  Mr.  Col- 
den  says: 

“ The  elegant  plates  which  adorn  that  work  were  executed 
under  the  superintendence  and  advice  of  Mr.  Fulton.  He  paid 
about  five  thousand  dollars  for  the  paintings,  the  plates  and 
letter-press;  which  gave  him  a property  in  the  publication. 
He  relinquished,  by  his  will,  all  his  right  to  the  widow  of  Mr. 
Barlow,  with  the  reservation  of  fifty  of  the  proof  and  embel- 
lished copies  of  the  work.  It  was  printed  in  Philadelphia,  in 
quarto,  and  published  in  eighteen  hundred  and  seven  ; it  is 
dedicated  by  Mr.  Barlow  to  Mr.  Fulton,  in  such  terms  as  evince 
the  strong  attachment  which  subsisted  between  these  men  of 
genius.  The  original  paintings,  from  which  the  prints  of  the 


241 


Pictures  by  West  purchased  by  Fulton. 

Columbiad  were  engraved,  form  a part  of  the  handsome  collec- 
tion which  Mr.  Fulton  has  left  to  his  family.” 

We  owe  to  him  the  introduction  into  this  country  of  the  pic- 
tures painted  by  his  friend  and  master  West,  from  Lear  and 
Hamlet,  for  Boydell’s  Shakspeare,  The  Lear  cost  him  two 
hundred  and  five  guineas,  and  the  Ophelia  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  at  Boydell’s  sale.  At  the  same  time  he  purchased 
a fine  picture  by  Raphael  West,  from  “ As  you  like  it,”  We 
have  copied  from  Mr.  Colden’s*book  the  prices  at  which  he 
says  Fulton  purchased  the  Lear  and  the  Ophelia,  but  instead 
of  the  sale  of  the  pictures  of  the  Royal  Academy,  we  substitute 
Boydell’s  sale,  for  the  Royal  Academy  never  had  a sale  of 
pictures.  West’s  pictures  were  painted  for  Boydell,  and  his 
great  project  failing,  the  government  allowed  his  pictures  to 
be  disposed  of  by  a lottery.  Whether  Fulton  was  an  adven- 
turer in  this  lottery,  or  purchased  of  the  owner  of  a prize,  we 
know  not.  That  he  did  not  purchase  of  the  Royal  Academy 
is  certain,  or  at  any  sale  of  their  pictures.  My  impression  is 
that  he  was  an  adventurer  in  the  lottery,  and  gained  these 
paintings  as  a prize.  The  inaccuracy  of  one  part  of  Mr. 
Colden’s  statement  renders  further  inaccuracy  probable. 

He  endeavoured  to  persuade  his  countrymen  to  purchase 
such  pictures  of  West’s  as  were  at  the  artist’s  disposal,  and  he 
wrote  to  the  citizens  of  Philadelphia  thus  j 

“ 1 now  have  the  pleasure  to  offer  you  a catalogue  of  the 
select  works  of  Mr.  West,  and  with  it  to  present  you  the  most 
extraordinary  opportunity  that  ever  was  offered  to  the  lovers 
of  science.  The  catalogue  referred  to  is  a list  of  all  Mr. 
West’s  productions,  portraits  excepted.  No  city  ever  had 
such  a collection  of  admired  works  from  the  pencil  of  one 
man  ; and  that  man  is  your  fellow-citizen.  The  price  set  on 
the  collection  is  fifteen  thousand  pounds  sterling  ; a sum  incon- 
siderable when  compared  with  the  objects  in  view,  and  the  ad* 
vantages  to  be  derived  from  it.’? 

Mr  Fulton  was  six  feet  in  height,  slender  in  his  form,  easy 
and  graceful  in  his  deportment.  His  countenance  was  ani- 
mated, and  his  eyes  and  forehead  betokened  genius  and  un- 
conquerable ardour.  He  was  a kind  father,  a fast  friend,  an 
enlightened  philosopher,  and  a good  republican.  The  arts  of 
America  are  indebted  to  him  much — but  the  science  and  hap* 
piness  of  the  world  more. 


THOMAS  CORAM— 1780. 

Of  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  assisted  the  progress  of  the 
fine  arts,  and  claims  a place  here.  We  find  this  gentleman 


242 


Thomas  Coram * 


mentioned  by  Ramsay,  as  having  exceeded  “ what  could  have 
been  expected  from  his  slender  opportunity  of  improvement.” 

He  presented  to  the  Orphan  Asylum  a picture  after  a de- 
sign of  Mr.  West,  from  the  passage,  “ Suffer  little  children,” 
&c.  From  Mr.  Fraser,  our  very  valuable  correspondent,  we 
learn,  that  Thomas  Coram  was  a native  of  Bristol,  England; 
and  nearly  related  to  the  philanthropist  of  the  name,  to  whose 
benevolent  exertions  the  Foundling  Hospital,  in  London,  is 
indebted  for  its  existence. 

Thomas,  the  subject  of  our  notice,  was  born  in  1756,  and 
was  brought  to  America  when  six  years  of  age.  His  early 
pursuits  were  mercantile  ; but  from  these  he  was  alienated  by 
the  attractions  of  the  pencil  and  graver,  to  which,  while  yet  a 
young  man,  he  devoted  himself  exclusively.  Mr.  Coram  must 
have  been  among  the  earliest  who  attempted  engraving  in  this 
country. 

“ He  was,”  says  Mr.  Fraser,  “truly  a self-taught  artist ; 
seeking  information  from  books,  practice,  and  the  conversa- 
tion of  artists  who  occasionally  visited  Charleston  ; but  from 
Mr.  Bembridge  his  instruction  was  chiefly  derived. 

The  phrase  “ self-taught”  must  mean,  as  far  as  taught  pre- 
vious to  Mr.  Bembridge’s  instructions ; and  even  before  that, 
it  must  be  received  with  qualifications.  “ His  industry,”  says 
Mr.  Fraser,  “ which  was  extraordinary,  was  the  more  lauda- 
ble as  it  was  not  prompted  by  encouragement  or  competition, 
but  proceeded  from  an  ardent  devotion  to  the  art.”  Sincerely 
attached  to  the  interests  of  his  adopted  country,  he  volunteered 
to  take  arms  in  their  support,  and  served  as  a private  soldier. 

His  drawings  are  characterized,  by  Mr.  Fraser,  as  possess- 
ing “ neatness  and  correctness  ; and  in  his  oil  paintings  there 
was  a harmony  of  colouring  and  felicity  of  execution  rarely 
surpassed  by  those  who  have  had  more  extensive  opportunities 
of  study  and  observation.  His  reading  embraced  almost 
every  subject  connected  with  his  favourite  art:  he  delighted 
in  the  history  of  it,  and  the  biography  of  eminent  painters ; 
and  of  both  it  was  his  habit  to  collect  and  transcribe  such  an- 
ecdotes and  passages  as  were  striking  and  useful.” 

He  was  a benevolent  man,  and  died,  regretted,  at  Charles- 
ton, the  second  of  May,  1810,  aged  54. 


William  Dunlap. 


243 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Autobiography  of  the  Author — General  Reflections — My  parents — My  birth  and 
education — Thomas  Bartow — first  visit  to  New  York — School  education  inter- 
rupted by  the  invasion  of  the  British — Piscatawa  and  scene  of  war — Winter  of 
1776-7,  at  Perth  Amboy— removal  to  New  York— Copy  prints  and  begin  to 
paint  portraits— Peace  of  1783 — first  sight  of  Washington — paint  his  portrait  at 
head  quarters — a pig  chace — Joseph  Wright — preparation  for  London  and  arri- 
val there — first  visit  to  Mr.  West — neglect  of  study  and  its  consequences. 

The  writer  of  this  work  began  to  paint  portraits,  so  called, 
in  1782;  and  therefore 

WILLIAM  DUNLAP— 1782, 
follows  in  the  chain. 

As  I have  endeavoured,  by  the  examples  of  West  and  Cop- 
ley, to  show  the  road  to  eminence  which  a painter  ought  to 
follow,  and  shall  hereafter  exhibit  Trumbull,  Sully,  Allston, 
Morse,  Leslie,  and  others,  as  examples  of  industry,  when  stu- 
dents, my  desire  is  to  exhibit  my  own  conduct  when  placed 
in  that  situation,  and  its  results — as  a beacon  to  be  avoided 
by  all.  I would  wish  to  show,  that  that  conduct  was  caused 
by  the  want  of  good,  and  the  abundance  of  bad  education  : 
not  as  an  excuse  for  folly,  but  to  render  its  excess,  in  my  in- 
stance, probable  in  the  eyes  of  the  reader.  In  my  history  of 
the  American  Theatre,  I believe  I proved,  to  my  readers’ 
satisfaction,  that  I was  not  qualified  to  be  the  director  of  a 
playhouse : and  I now  intend  to  show  the  causes  that,  at  the 
age  of  twenty-three,  and  after  along  residence  in  London,  left 
me  ignorant  of  anatomy,  perspective,  drawing,  and  colouring, 
and  returned  me  home  a most  incapable  painter.  I can  speak  of 
myself  now,  at  the  age  of  sixty-nine,  as  of  another,  better  known 
than  any  other  could  be  known.  If  it  were  not  for  this  in- 
timate knowledge,  one  might  almost  doubt  one’s  identity.  I 
am  so  dissimilar  to  what  I was,  that  I can  with  difficulty  real- 
ize sameness.  I am  not  what  I was  ; but  the  knowledge  of 
what  I was  produces  the  conviction  of  identity. 

At  at  an  advanced  age  1 look  back  upon  a long  life  with 
the  persuasion  that  what  is  called  misfortune,  in  common  par- 
lance, is  caused  generally  by  our  own  folly,  ignorance,  mis- 
takes or  vices.  Even  that  health,  which  is  necessary  to  the 
enjoyment  of  the  good  showered  upon  us  by  the  benevolent 
Creator  of  the  universe,  when  lost,  is  frequently  lost  from  the 
same  causes.  Natural  decay  and  death  are  to  be  considered 
as  the  termination  of  a free  gift,  in  itself  an  assurance  of  infi- 
nite goodness  in  the  giver.  A well  spent  life  must  be  a life  of 
happiness,  and  a preparation  for  the  will  of  the  Creator  here- 
after. But  a well  spent  life  depends  upon  education — the 
knowledge  of  good  and  pvil — truth  and  falsehood — and  their 


214 


Negroes  and  slavery , their  influence. 


influences.  Inasmuch  as  man  obeys  the  great  law  of  love  to 
God  and  his  neighbour,  he  is  happy.  Undue  self-preference 
causes  misery.  If  the  events  I record  tend  to  strengthen  the 
many  proofs  of  these  truths,  I shall  leave  an  important  lesson 
to  my  fellow  creatures. 

I was  born  in  the  city  of  Perth-Amboy  and  province  of 
New-Jersey.  My  father,  Samuel  Dunlap,  was  a native  of  the 
north  of  Ireland,  and  son  of  a merchant  of  Londonderry.  In 
early  youth  he  was  devoted  to  the  army,  and  bore  the  colours 
of  the  47th  regiment,  “ Wolfe’s  own,”  on  the  plain  of  Abra- 
ham. He  was  borne  wounded  from  the  field  on  which  his 
commander  triumphed  and  died.  After  the  French  war, 
Samuel  Dunlap,  then  a lieutenant  in  the  47th  regiment,  and 
stationed  at  Perth-Amboy,  married  Margaret  Sargent  of  that 
place,  and  retired  from  the  profession  of  a soldier,  to  the  quiet 
of  a country  town  and  country  store.  The  19th  of  February, 
1766,  is  registered  as  the  date  of  m}^  birth,  and  being  an  only 
child,  the  anniversary  of  the  important  day  was  duly  celebra- 
ted by  my  indulgent  parents.  Education  I had  none,  accord- 
ing to  the  usual  acceptation  of  the  word,  owing  to  circum- 
stances to  be  mentioned  ; and  much  of  what  is  to  the  child 
most  essential  education,  was  essentially  bad.  Holding  negroes 
in  slavery  was  in  those  days  the  common  practice,  and  the 
voices  of  those  who  protested  against  the  evil  were  not  heard. 
Every  house  in  my  native  place  where  any  servants  were  to  be 
seen,  swarmed  with  black  slaves — every  house  save  one , here- 
after to  be  mentioned.  My  father’s  kitchen  had  several  fami- 
lies of  them  of  all  ages,  and  all  born  in  the  family  of  my 
mother  except  one,  who  was  called  a new-negro,  and  had  his 
face  tattooed — his  language  was  scarcely  intelligible  though  he 
had  been  long  in  the  country,  and  wTas  an  old  man.  These  blacks 
indulged  me  of  course,  and  I sought  the  kitchen  as  the  place 
where  I found  playmates,  (being  an  only  child,)  and  the  place 
where  I found  amusement  suited  to,  and  forming  my  taste,  in 
the  mirth  and  games  of  the  negroes,  and  the  variety  of  visiters 
of  the  black  race  who  frequented  the  place.  This  may  be 
considered  as  my  first  school.  Such  is  the  school  of  many  a 
one  even  now,  in  those  states  where  the  evil  of  slavery  con- 
tinues. The  infant  is  taught  to  tyrannize— the  boy  is  taught 
to  despise  labour — the  mind  of  the  child  is  contaminated  by 
hearing  and  seeing  that  which  perhaps  is  not  understood  at 
the  time,  but  remains  with  the  memory.  This  medley  of 
kitchen  associates  was  increased  during  a part  of  the  war  of 
our  revolution  by  soldiers,  who  found  their  mess-fare  improved 


Thomas  Bartow.  245 

by  visiting  the  negroes,  and  by  servants  of  officers  billetted  on 
the  house. 

Happily  from  very  early  infancy  I had  another  school  and 
another  teacher,  as  also  the  usual  instructions  of  a good 
mother.  1 owe  my  love  of  pictures  and  of  books  to  one  on  whose 
memory  and  character  I must  dwell,  and  of  whose  house  and 
household  I must  give  a description,  for  they  made  a part  of 
him,  and  are  intimately  connected  with  me. 

Perth-Amboy  is  regularly  laid  out  in  squares,  and  in  the 
centre-square  of  the  city,  the  metropolis  of  the  province,  stood 
the  market-house  of  brick,  shaded  on  all  sides  by  locust  trees, 
the  centre  of  a square  through  which  pass  Market  and  High- 
streets.  On  the  corner  of  Market-street  stood  the  house  of 
Thomas  Bartow,  almost  surrounded  by  the  fruit-trees  of  his 
garden.  He  was  a small  thin  old  man,  with  straight  gray 
hair  hanging  in  comely  guise  on  each  side  of  his  pale  face. 
His  appearance  was  truly  venerable.  He  was  feeble  from  age 
and  lame  from  rheumatism.  His  countenance,  ever  mild,  was 
towards  me  kind  and  cheerful.  Whether  with  his  books  by 
the  blazing  hickory  fire  of  winter,  or  in  his  garden  amidst  vines 
and  fruit-trees  in  summer,  I was  always  welcome.  Over  the 
snows  I accompanied  him  in  his  one-horse  sleigh  ; and  in  the 
more  genial  seasons  old  sorrel  dragged  us  over  the  same  roads 
through  the  adjoining  villages  of  Woodbridge  and  Rahway. 
It  must  have  been  the  delight  he  took  in  watching  the  growth 
of  the  mental  faculties,  which  caused  this  benevolent  old  man 
to  devote  so  much  attention  to  a child,  and  doubtless,  he  felt 
gratified  by  the  attachment  of  the  child,  and  the  preference 
given  to  his  company,  his  books,  and  his  tuition  over  the  enti- 
cing gambols  of  those  who  from  age  might  be  supposed,  and  fre- 
quently were,  more  congenial  associates.  It  is  not  irrelevant 
to  dwell  upon  my  visits  to  this  good  old  gentleman.  The 
happy  hours  passed  with  him  in  his  garden,  or  in  walking  with 
him,  or  in  our  rides  might  be  omitted,  but  when  I found  him 
on  that  Sunday  morning  when  the  parson,  a regimental  chap- 
lain, who  was  engaged  to  bestow  his  spare  time  on  the  epis- 
copalians at  Woodbridge  and  Amboy,  was  absent  from  the 
latter  place,  when  I was  received  and  placed  by  the  side  of 
the  old  gentleman  at  the  stand  or  table  where  he  sat  with  his 
books,  when,  after  going  up  stairs  to  the  book-closet  and 
bringing  down  such  volumes  as  struck  my  fancy,  I received 
his  explanations  of  the  pictures  or  the  pages ; if  these  visits 
were  passed  over  I should  omit  the  record  of  the  happiest  mo- 
ments of  childhood,  and  of  hours  which  expanded  my  intellect, 
and  laid  the  foundation  of  my  love  for  books  and  pictures. 


246 


First  impressions  and  love  of  books. 

Patiently  he  turned  over  the  pages  of  Homer  and  Virgil  in 
the  translations  of  Pope  and  Dryden,  and  of  Milton’s  poems, 
and  explained  the  pictures,  until  I was*  familiar  with  the  stories 
of  Troy  and  Latium — of  heaven  and  of  hell,  as  poets  tell  them. 
Nor  was  history  strange  to  me,  especially  that  of  Rome.  Thus 
was  commenced  a love  of  reading  which  has  been  my  blessing. 
My  friend’s  library  was  small,  but,  as  I now  know,  well  chosen. 
Besides  the  books  I have  mentioned,  and  many  others,  it  con- 
tained the  Universal  History,  condemned  by  Warburton  and 
praised  by  Gibbon. 

I should  not  do  justice  to  my  early  friend  if  I did  not  notice 
peculiarities  in  his  conduct  and  household,  probably  little 
thought  of  by  me  at  the  time,  but  making  their  due  impression. 
H is  was  the  only  house  where  slavery  did  not  exist.  His  ser- 
vants alone  in  the  place  were  white.  An  elderly  woman  and 
a sturdy  youth  composed  the  establishment.  The  first  kept 
all  within  as  neat  as  herself,  the  second  was  gardener,  hostler 
and  general  out-door  minister — and  he  sawed  wood  for  the 
fires — at  every  other  house  the  axe  was  used  for  cutting.  I 
never  remember  to  have  seen  the  old  gentleman  within  any 
house  but  his  own,  nor  had  he  visiters  except  on  business,  for 
he  was  an  agent  for  the  lands  of  the  original  proprietors  of 
the  province.  He  read  the  bible,  but  he  never  went  to  church. 

That  event  by  which  I,  in  common  with  the  world,  have 
gained  so  much,  the  rebellion  of  1775,  was  the  cause  of  my 
losing  this  my  earliest  companion  and  friend.  He  retired  to 
Bethlehem,  in  Pennsylvania,  and  there  died  about  five  years 
after.  I followed  him  towards  the  Raritan  on  which  he  was 
to  embark,  and  lingered  until  he  desired  me  to  return  home. 
I was  then  nine  years  of  age,  and  my  friend  perhaps  seventy. 
For  years  I saw  him  vividly  in  my  dreams,  and  awoke,  like 
Caliban,  with  the  disposition  to  weep  for  a renewal  of  my 
dreams.  Mr.  Bartow  retired  from  the  approach  of  scenes  in 
which  age  prohibited  his  becoming  an  actor. 

Among  the  earliest  pictures  that  I remember  were  some  on 
oil-cloth,  without  frames,  representing  huntsmen,  horses  and 
dogs.  They  made  a deep  impression  on  me,  and  I recollect 
them  still  with  pleasure.  This  must  have  been  in  1772,  or 
earlier;  and  when  I saw  Heard’s  hounds  from  Woodbridge 
enter  Amboy,  surrounding  the  black  huntsman  with  his  scarlet 
coat,  black  jockey-cap  and  gold  tassel,  broad  leather  belt  and 
hunting-horn,  he  appeared  to  me  a most  dignified  and  venera- 
ble personage. 

The  records  of  the  time  will  show  the  date,  probably  1774, 
at  which  the  47th  regiment  was  removed  from  Perth- Amboy 


247 


Approach  of  war. 

to  New-York  and  thence  to  Boston,  to  be  cut  up  by  Prescott 
and  the  Yankees  at  Bunker’ s-hill.  It  was  after  that  removal 
that  my  father  took  me  with  him  in  the  small  packet  sloop, 
which  was  the  mode  of  communication,  on  the  summer-day’s 
vo}^age  to  New-York.  The  first  visit  to  the  great  city  was 
of  course  all  wonder  to  me.  I remember  that  preparations 
for  hostilities  were  making.  Horsemen’s  helmets,  swords  and 
belts,  with  other  equipments,  were  displayed  at  the  shop-doors 
and  windows.  In  a walk  taken  with  my  father  out  of  town,  on 
the  new  road,  he  was  attracted  by  preparations  for  supplying 
the  city  with  water  from  the  Collect  or  fresh-water  pond,  (a 
project  of  good  old  Christopher  Collis ;)  and  entering  among 
some  mounds  of  earth  on  the  east  of  the  road,  and  where  Frank- 
lin-street now  is,  we  saw  a company  of  gentlemen  practising, 
with  an  instructor,  the  small-sword  salute. 

I learned  my  letters  of  the  school-m'stress — was  then  turned 
over  to  master  JVPNorton  and  learned  to  spell,  perhaps  read — 
commenced  more  regular  instruction  with  an  English  gentle- 
man ; read  Anson’s  voyage,  and  had  the  mysteries  of  grammar 
put  in  my  hand ; but  they  went  no  further.  The  British 
troops  appeared  on  Staten  Island,  opposite  Amboy — the  mili- 
tia of  the  villages  poured  into  the  place  half-armed  and  un- 
armed— Doctor  Franklin  and  others  met  the  English  com- 
missioners at  Billop’s  house  on  Staten  Island — my  father  re- 
moved his  family  to  Piscatawa,  on  the  banks  of  the  Raritan, 
and  from  1775  to  1777,  when  he  removed  to  New-York,  I 
heard  not  the  word  school.  The  summer  of  1776  was  passed 
at  Piscatawa,  in  a retired  spot,  about  a mile  from  the  village 
and  post-road.  The  lessons  of  my  friend  Bartow  were  now 
useful  to  me ; I read  Pope’s  Homer,  which  l found  in  my  father’s 
house,  and  other  books  I borrowed  from  a gentleman  who 
resided  two  miles  up  the  river.  I read  Shakspeare,  certainly 
without  understanding  all  I read.  My  father  gave  me  lessons 
in  writing  and  arithmetic,  but  my  time  was  principally  occu- 
pied in  swimming  and  fishing  in  the  creeks  of  the  Raritan, 
rambling  the  fields  and  woods — sailing  boats  on  a mill-pond — 
visiting  the  miller — and  in  short  in  the  delights  of  liberty  and 
idleness — no,  not  idleness,  for  this  was  as  busy  a summer  as  1 
remember.  The  Declaration  of  Independence  caused  a sen- 
sation which  1 distinctly  remember,  but  my  sports  and  rambles 
had  more  interest  for  me. 

The  English  troops  marched  through  Piscatawa  without 
opposition,  and  plundered  the  houses.  I witnessed  this  scene. 
The  men  of  the  village  had  retired  on  the  approach  of  the 
enemy.  Some  women  and  children  were  left.  I heard  their 


248  War  present. 

lamentations  as  the  soldiers  carried  off  their  furniture,  scatter- 
ed the  feathers  of  beds  to  the  winds,  and  piled  up  looking- 
glasses,  with  frying-pans  in  the  same  heap,  by  the  road  side. 
The  soldier  would  place  a female  camp-follower  as  a guard 
upon  the  spoil,  while  he  returned  to  add  to  the  treasure.  Perth- 
Amboy  being  now  in  the  possession  of  the  British,  my  father 
returned  with  his  family  to  his  house,  and  I saw  in  my  native 
town,  particularly  after  the  affairs  of  Princeton  and  Trenton, 
all  the  varieties  and  abominations  of  a crowded  camp  and 
garrison.  An  army  who  had  so  recently  passed  in  triumph 
from  the  sea  to  the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  and  chosen  their 
winter-quarters  at  their  pleasure,  were  now  driven  in  and 
crowded  upon  a point  of  land  washed  by  the  Atlantic,  and  de- 
fended by  the  guns  of  the  ships  which  had  borne  them  to  the 
shore  as  the  chastisers  of  rebellion. 

I have  elsewhere  compared  the  scenes  I now  witnessed  to 
the  dramatic  scenes  of  Wallenstein's  Lager,  Here  were  cen- 
tered, in  addition  to  those  cantoned  at  the  place,  all  those 
drawn  in  from  the  Delaware,  Princeton  and  Brunswick ; and 
the  flower  and  pick  of  the  army,  English,  Scotch,  and  Ger- 
man, who  had  at  this  time  been  brought  in  from  Rhode  Island. 
Here  was  to  be  seen  a party  of  the  42d  Highlanders,  in  na- 
tional costume,  and  there  a regiment  of  Hessians,  their  dress 
and  arms  a perfect  contrast  to  the  first.  The  slaves  of  Ans- 
pach  and  Waldeck  were  there — the  first  sombre  as  night,  the 
second  gaudy  as  noon.  Here  dashed  by  a party  of  the  17th 
Dragoons,  and  there  scampered  a party  of  Yagers.  The  trim, 
neat  and  graceful  English  grenadier,  the  careless  and  half 
savage  Highlander,  with  his  flowing  robes  and  naked  knees, 
and  the  immovably  stiff  German,  could  hardly  be  taken  for  parts 
of  one  army.  Here  might  be  seen  soldiers  driving  in  cattle, 
and  others  guarding  wagons  loaded  with  household  furniture, 
instead  of  the  hay  and  oats  they  had  been  sent  for. 

The  landing  of  the  grenadiers  and  light  infantry  from  the 
ships  which  transported  the  troops  from  Rhode  Island ; their 
proud  march  into  the  hostile  neighbourhood,  to  gather  the 
produce  of  the  farmer  for  the  garrison ; the  sound  of  the  mus- 
quetry,  which  soon  rolled  back  upon  us ; the  return  of  the 
disabled  veterans,  who  could  retrace  their  steps;  and  the 
heavy  march  of  the  discomfitted  troops,  with  their  wagons  of 
groaning  wounded,  in  the  evening,  are  all  impressed  on  my 
mind  as  pictures  of  the  evils  and  the  soul-stirring  scenes  of 
war. 

These  lessons,  and  others  more  disgusting— the  flogging 
of  English  heroes,  and  thumping  and  caning  of  German ; 


249 


Mysterious  disappearance  of  things  valued . 

the  brutal  licentiousness,  which  even  my  tender  years  could 
not  avoid  seeing-  in  all  around,  and  the  increased  disorders 
among  m37  father’s  negroes,  from  mingling  with  the  servants 
of  officers, — were  my  sources  of  instruction  in  the  winter  of 
1776—7.  In  the  spring  of  1777  my  father  removed  to  New- 
York.  Perhaps  it  was  at  this  time  of  removal  that  many 
things  which  i should  now  highly  value  were  lost.  It  is  tome 
incomprehensible,  that  books  and  other  articles,  which  are  re- 
membered as  being  in  existence  at  a distant  time,  vanish,  and 
leave  no  trace  behind  them.  I used  to  play  with  mv  father’s 
sword,  gorget  and  sash  ; iclien  they  disappeared,  I know  not. 
Of  books,  l remember  a work  from  the  French,  called  “ La 
Belle  Assemblee,”  “ Bartram  Montfichet,”  an  imitation  of 
Tristram  Shandy,  the  “ Fortunate  Country  Maid,”  the  “ Fool 
of  Quality, ” a great  favourite  ; the  two  spirits,  one  good  and 
one  evil,  united  in  the  same  body,  made  a lasting  impression 
on  me;  and  although  I know  the  idea  is  not  original  with 
Brooke,  I cannot  blit  admire  him  for  the  use  he  made  of  it — 
u Sir  Launcelot  Greaves,”  a “ Life  of  Swift,”  and  others ; but  I 
most  regret  a small  volume,  in  a black  leather  cover,  and 
printed  in  old  English  characters,  giving  an  account  of  the 
sufferings  of  Elizabeth  under  the  tyranny  of  her  sister  Mary. 
These  and  many  more  would  give  me  delight  to  see  now. 
Some  very  valuable  books  remain  with  me  to  this  time — Pope’s 
“Homer,”  Taylor’s  “Life  of  Christ,”  folio  edition,  with 
plates,  which  afterwards  served  for  me  to  copy  in  Indian  ink, 
“Anson’s  Voyage,”  Butler’s  “ Hudibras,”  with  plates  by  Ho- 
garth, and  a few  others,  in  possession  of  the  family  at  that 
time.  But  the  mystery  is  how  these  things  vanish  from  the 
possession  of  an  orderly  family. 

In  New-York  I was  sent  to  Latin-school,  and  Mr.  Leslie 
heard  me  say  the  grammar  by  rote  ; but  I was  removed  from 
him,  I know  not  why,  and  attended  an  English-school,  where, 
with  a good  old  quaker,  1 might  have  acquired  a common  edu- 
cation. but  another  and  a final  interruption  to  my  school  in- 
struction occurred.  Andrew  Elliot,  Esq.  at  this  time  resided  at 
his  country-seat,  on  the  New-road,  in  a mansion  long  after 
known  as  the  “ Sailor’s  Snug  Harbour.”  It  had  so  happened 
that  at  the  time  my  friend  Bartow  left  Amboy,  Elliot  removed 
his  family  to  that  place,  to  await  the  movements  of  the  British 
army,  and  on  their  taking  possession  of  New-York  returned 
home  again.  V bile  at  Amboy,  his  boys  became  my  playmates, 
and  the  intimacy  was  renewed  under  the  banner  of  Great  Bri- 
tain. In  June,  1778,  by  invitation,  I dined  with  his  large 
family  of  youngsters,  and  in  the  afternoon  we  all  engaged  in 

32 


250 


Ramage  and  Detanoy . 

throwing  chips  of  wood  at  each  other  in  the  wood-yard.  In 
this  sport  my  right  eye  was  cut  longitudinally,  by  a heavier 
piece  of  firewood  ihan  was  in  the  general  use  . of  the  combatants, 
and,  deprived  of  its  use,  I was  led  into  the  house,  accompanied 
by  all  my  affrighted  associates.  A carriage  was  prepared, 
and  I was  delivered  to  my  distressed  parents.  After  many 
weeks  of  confinement  to  my  bed,  and  more  to  the  house,  1 slowly 
regained  health  ; but  never  the  sight  of  the  organ.  By  de- 
grees I recovered  the  full  use  of  the  remaining  eye,  but  the 
accident  prevented  all  further  regular  schooling. 

Books  and  pictures  became  the  companions  of  my  leisure, 
and  I had  as  much  time  to  bestow  on  them  as  I pleased.  I 
had  acquired  the  use  of  Indian-ink,  and  became  attached  to 
copying  prints.  I was  encouraged  by  admiration-— good  en- 
gravings were  lent  to  me,  and  by  degress  my  copies  might 
almost  pass  for  the  original  prints.  My  eye  became  satisfied 
with  light  and  shadow,  and  the  excitement  of  colour  was  not 
necessary  to  my  pleasure  ; indeed,  I believe  that  either  from 
nature  or  the  above  accident,  I did  not  possess  a painter’s  eye 
for  colour  ; but  I was  now  devoted  to  painting  as  a profes- 
sion, and  i did  not  suspect  any  deficiency. 

Seeing  that  I aspired  to  be  a painter,  and  talked  of  West 
and  Copley,  and  read  books  on  the  art,  my  father  looked  out 
for  an  instructor  for  me.  Mr.  Ramage,  the  miniature  painter, 
was  in  reality  the  only  artist  in  New-York,  but  he  was  full  of 
employment  and  declined  teaching. 

A painter  of  the  name  of  Delanoy  lived  in  Maiden-lane, 
and  certainly  had  no  inconsiderable  knowledge  of  colours  and 
the  mechanical  part  of  the  art.  He  said  he  had  visited  Lon- 
don, and  been  instructed  by  Mr.  WTest,  and  he  showed  a 
picture  copied  from  West,  of  Cupid  stung  by  a bee,  and 
complaining  to  his  mother  : be  had  in  his  house  a family  pic- 
ture of  himself,  wife  and  children — whether  completed  or  not, 
I do  not  remember— -the  heads  were  all  turned  one  way,  and 
the  shadowed  side  relieved  by  dim  spots  of  light  in  the  back 
ground  ; and  yet  my  memory  tells  me  that  the  faces  were 
cleverly  painted.  Mr.  Delanoy’s  occupation,  at  this  time,  was 
sign-painting,  and  his  poverty  did  not  tempt  to  become 
a painter,  yet  I believe  that  he  might  have  taught  me  much  of 
the  management  of  oil  colours,  and  by  so  doing  have  materially 
altered  my  course  when  I went  to  England.  Why  he  was 
not  employed  to  teach  me  I do  not  know.  His  manners  were 
not  prepossessing,  though  mild;  I can  remember  that  I had 
not  confidence  in  his  pretension,  at  that  time,  though  since 
confirmed. 


251 


Consequences  of  the  peace  of  1783. 

The  next  in  degree  was  William  Williams,  he  undertook 
the  task  ; I went  to  his  rooms  in  the  suburbs,  now  Mott- 
street,  and  he  placed  a drawing  book  before  me,  such  as  I 
bad  possessed  for  years  : after  a few  visits  the  teacher  was 
not  to  be  found.  I examined  his  portraits — tried  his  crayons, 
and  soon  procuring  a set,  commenced  painting  portraits, 
beginning  with  my  father’s.  From  painting  my  relations  I 
proceeded  to  painting  my  young  companions,  and,  having 
applications  from  strangers,  I fixed  my  price  at  three  guineas 
a-head.  I thus  commenced  portrait-painter  in  the  year  1782, 
by  no  means  looking  to  it  for  subsistence,  but  living  as  the 
only  and  indulged  child  of  my  parents,  with  them,  and  doing 
as  it  seemed  best  unto  me.  Thus  passed  life  to  the  age  of 
seventeen.  I was  now  at  the  period  of  full  animal  enjoyment — 
the  world  was  a wilderness  of  roses  ; still,  although  all  was 
delight,  I longed  for  change.  Books  did  not  at  tbat  period 
attract  me  as  they  had  done.  I gained  an  imperfect  know- 
ledge of  French.  I had  no  check  on  my  wishes,  but  I longed 
to  leave  home.  Six  years  I had  been  shut  up  in  a garrison 
town,  and  that  added  to  the  common  desire  every  youth  feels 
for  roving. 

I wras  released  by  the  preliminary  treaty  of  peace,  and  in  the 
summer  of  1783  returned  to  the  place  of  my  nativity  for  a 
few  days.  I visited  other  portions  of  my  native  state,  now  no 
longer  a dependent  province.  1 passed  some  time  at  Prince- 
ton and  Rocky-hill.  I mingled  with  the  defenders  of  the 
country  who  had  followed  Washington  at  Trenton  and  Prince- 
ton. I visited  Philadelphia  for  the  first  time.  I saw  and 
admired  Peale’s  gallery  of  pictures,  for  then  I admired  every 
thing.  After  a few  days  l returned  to  Rocky-hill,  and  soon 
after  to  New-York.  1 was  again  indulged  with  an  excursion 
to  Princeton  and  Rocky-hill,  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year, 
when  both  places  had  become  of  importance,  the  first  by  the 
presence  of  congress,  the  second  as  the  head  quarters  of  their 
general.  I was  now  introduced  to  men  and  scenes  which 
would  have  been  interesting  at  any  period  of  life,  but  which 
to  a boy  on  the  verge  of  manhood,  and  assuming  to  be  man, 
one  new  to  the  world,  and  to  whom  the  world  was  dressed  in 
rainbow  colours,  were  calculated  to  make  impressions,  which, 
at  the  distance  of  half  a century,  are  like  the  glow  ing  pictures 
of  the  artificial  camera  obscura,  when  every  object  is  illumi- 
inated  by  a summer’s  sun. 

Congress  had  left  Philadelphia  in  consequence  of  mutinous 
symptoms  in  the  Pennsylvania  troops.  The  triumphant  rulers 
of  the  republic  held  their  sittings  in  Princeton  College,  and 


252 


First  sight  of  Washington . 


their  triumphant  general  occupied  the  house  of  Mr.  Berrian, 
at  Rocky-hill,  a short  walk  from  the  rustic  mansion  of  Mr. 
John  Van  Horne,  whose  guest  I was. 

Before  I left  Princeton  for  Rocky-hill,  I saw,  for  the  first 
time,  the  man  of  whom  all  men  spoke — whom  all  wished  to 
see.  It  was  accidental.  It  was  a picture.  No  painter  could 
have  grouped  a company  of  military  horsemen  better,  or 
selected  a back-ground  better  suited  for  effect.  As  I walked 
on  the  road  leading  from  Princeton  to  Trenton,  alone,  for  I 
ever  loved  solitary  rambles,  ascending  a hill  suddenly  ap- 
peared a brilliant  troop  of  cavaliers,  mounting  and  gaining 
the  summit  in  my  front.  The  clear  autumnal  sky  behind 
them  equally  relieved  the  dark  blue  uniforms,  the  buff  facings, 
and  glittering  military  appendages.  All  were  gallantly 
mounted— all  were  tall  and  graceful,  but  one  towered  above 
the  rest,  and  I doubted  not  an  instant  that  I saw  the  beloved 
hero.  I lifted  my  hat  as  I saw  that  his  eye  was  turned  to  me, 
and  instantly  every  hat  was  raised  and  every  eye  was  fixed  on 
me.  They  passed  on,  and  I turned  and  gazed  as  at  a passing 
vision.  I had  seen  him.  Although  all  my  life  used  to  the 

u pride,  pomp  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war” — to  the 
gay  and  gallant  Englishman,  the  tartan’d  Scot,  and  the  embroi- 
dered German  of  every  military  grade  ; I still  think  the  old 
blue  and  buff  of  Washington  and  his  aids,  their  cocked  hats 
worn  side-long,  with  the  union  cockade,  their  whole  equip- 
ment as  seen  at  that  moment,  was  the  most  martial  of  any  thing 
1 ever  saw. 

A few  days  after  this  incident  I took  up  my  abode  at  Mr. 
John  Van  Horne’s,  by  invitation,  within  a short  distance  of 
the  head  quarters  of  the  commander-in-chief.  He  frequently 
called,  when  returning  from  his  ride,  and  passed  an  hour  with 
Mrs.  Van  Horne  and  the  ladies  of  the  family,  or  with  the  far- 
mer, if  at  home.  I was  of  course  introduced  to  him.  I had 
brought  with  me  materials  for  crayon  painting,  and  commen- 
ced the  portraits  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Van  Horne;  these  were  ad- 
mired far  beyond  their  merits,  and  shown  to  all  visiters.  I 
had  with  me  a flute  and  some  music  books.  One  morning  as 
I copied  notes  and  tried  them,  the  general  and  his  suite  passed 
through  the  hall,  and  I heard  him  say,  “The  love  of  music 
and  painting  are  frequently  found  united  in  the  same  person.” 
The  remark  is  common-place,  but  it  was  delightful  to  me  at 
the  time. 

The  assertion  that  this  great  man  never  laughed  must  have 
arisen  from  his  habitual,  perhaps  his  natural  reservedness. 
He  had  from  early  youth  been  conversant  with  public  men  and 


253 


How  to  run  down  a pig. 

employed  in  public  affairs — in  affairs  of  life  and  death.  He 
was  not  an  austere  man  either  in  appearance  or  manners,  but 
was  unaffectedly  dignified  and  habitually  polite.  But  I re- 
member, during  my  opportunity  of  observing  his  deportment, 
two  instances  of  unrestrained  laughter.  The  first  and  most 
moderate  was  at  a bon  mot , or  anecdote,  from  Judge  Peters, 
then  a member  of  congress,  and  dining  with  the  general  ; the 
second  was  on  witnessing  a scene  in  front  of  Mr.  Van  Horne’s 
house,  which  was,  as  I recollect  it,  sufficiently  laugh-provok- 
ing. Mr.  John  Van  Horne  was  a man  of  uncommon  size  and 
strength  and  bulky  withal.  His  hospitable  board  required,  that 
day,  as  it  often  did,  a roasting  pig  in  addition  to  the  many  other 
substantial  dishes  which  a succession  of  guests,  civil  and  mili- 
tary, put  in  requisition.  A black  boy  had  been  ordered  to  catch 
the  young  porker,  and  was  in  full  but  unavailing  chase,  when 
the  master  and  myself  arrived  from  a walk.  “Pooh!  you 
awkward  cur,”  said  the  good-natured  yeoman,  as  he  directed 
Cato  or  Plato  (for  all  the  slaves  were  heathen  philosophers  in 
those  days)  to  exert  his  limbs — but  all  in  vain— the  pig  did 
not  choose  to  be  cooked.  “ Stand  away,”  said  Van  Horne, 
and  throwing  off  his  coat  and  hat  he  undertook  the  chase,  de- 
termined to  run  down  the  pig.  His  guests  and  his  negroes 
stood  laughing  at  his  exertions  and  the  pig’s  manifold  escapes. 
Shouts  and  laughter  at  length  proclaimed  the  success  of  the 
chasseur , and  while  he  held  the  pig  up  in  triumph,  the  big 
drops  coursing  each  other  from  forehead  to  chin,  over  his 
mahogany  face,  glowing  with  the  effect  of  exercise,  amidst 
the  squealing  of  the  victim,  the  stentorian  voice  of  Van  Horne 
was  heard,  “ I’ll  show  ye  how  to  run  down  a pig!”  and,  as  he 
spoke,  he  looked  up  in  the  face  of  Washington,  who,  with  his 
suite,  had  trotted  their  horses  into  the  court-yard  unheard 
amidst  the  din  of  the  chase  and  the  shouts  of  triumphant  suc- 
cess, The  ludicrous  expression  of  surprise  at  being  so  caught, 
with  his  attempts  to  speak  to  his  heroic  visiter,  while  the  pig 
redoubled  his  efforts  to  escape  by  kicking  and  squeaking, 
produced  as  hearty  a burst  of  laughter  from  the  dignified 
Washington  as  any  that  shook  the  sides  of  the  most  vulgar 
spectator  of  the  scene. 

But  to  return  to  the  young  painter.  The  portraits  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Van  Horne  elicited  praise,  and  I was  delighted  by 
the  approbation  of  General  Washington — doubtless  the  mere 
wish  to  encourage  youth.  My  friend  Van  Horne  requested 
him  to  sit  to  me  and  he  complied.  This  was  a triumphant 
moment  for  a boy  of  seventeen  ; and  it  must  be  remembered 
that  Washington  had  not  then  been  “ hackneyed  to  the  touches 


*234 


I paint  Washington's  portrait. 

of  painter’s  pencil,”-— (see  his  letter  to  Francis  Hopkinson  in 
Fine’s  life  in  this  work,) — I say  a triumphant  moment,  but 
it  was  one  of  anxiety,  fear  and  trembling-. 

My  visits  were  now  frequent  to  head  quarters.  The  only 
military  in  the  neighbourhood  were  the  general’s  suite  and  a 
captain’s  guard,  whose  tents  were  on  the  green  before  the 
Berrian  house,  and  the  captain’s  marque  nearly  in  front.  The 
soldiers  were  New-En  gland  yeomen’s  sons,  none  older  than 
twenty  ; their  commander  was  Captain  Howe,  in  after  times 
long  a resident  of  New-York.  I was  astonished  when  the 
simple  Yankee  sentinels,  deceived  by  my  fine  clothes,  saluted 
me  as  I passed  daily  to  and  fro;  but  Captain  Howe’s  praise 
of  my  portrait  of  the  general  appeared  to  me  as  a thing  of 
course,  though  surely  he  was  as  much  deceived  as  his  sol- 
diers. 1 was  quite  at  home  in  every  respect  at  head  quarters  ; to 
breakfast  and  dine  day  after  day  with  the  general  and  Mrs. 
Washington,  and  members  of  congress,  and  noticed  as  the 
young  painter,  was  delicious.  The  general’s  portrait  led  to  the 
sitting  of  the  lady.  I made  what  were  thought  likenesses, ^and 
presented  them  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  "Van  Horne,  taking  copies  for 
myself. 

Mr.  Joseph  Wright,  son  of  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Patience 
Wright,  and  a pupil  of  Mr.  West’s  as  a painter,  arrived  at 
head  quarters  from  Paris,  bearing  letters  from  Dr.  Franklin, 
which  entitled  him  to  sittings  from  the  general  and  Mrs.  Wash- 
ington. I thought  at  the  time  these  portraits  were  very  like. 

The  time  for  returning  home  arrived.  I took  leave  of  my 
friends  at  Rocky-hill,  and  soon  after  saw  Washington  enter 
New-York  with  two  or  three  regiments,  and  attended  by  the 
citizens  on  horseback  and  on  foot,  who  went  out  to  meet  him 
and  accompany  his  triumphal  entry  ; while  the  English  fleet 
slowly  sailed  from  the  no  longer  hostile  harbour.  This  was 
the  ever  memorable  25th  of  November,  1783.  It  had  now 
been  decided  that  I should  go  to  London  in  the  spring,  and 
the  winter  was  passed  in  painting  and  in  making  preparations 
for  the  voyage. 

My  first  portrait  in  oil  was  made  for  the  assistance  of  a sign- 
painter,  probably  in  the  year  1782.  Delanoy  had  undertaken 
to  paint  a head  of  Sir  Samuel  Hood,  one  of  the  lions  of  that 
day, and  found  himself  puzzled  to  make  a likeness  that  the  sailors 
would  acknowledge.  In  this  dilemma  the  artist  came  to  me. 
I took  his  palette,  and  with  a bold  brush  dashed  in  the  red  face 
and  hair,  long  nose,  and  little  grey  eyes  of  the  naval  hero. 
The  sign  swung  amidst  the  acclamations  of  the  Jack  tars.  A 
more  inveterate  likeness  did  not  exist  in  Charles  Surface’s  col- 


Preparations  for  London.  255 

lection,  and  yet  I have  recognised  my  first  oil  portrait,  some- 
what improved,  in  the  British  portrait  gallery,  under  the  title 
of  Lord  H ood. 

Now,  in  preparation  for  my  departure,  with  a palette  pre- 
sented to  me  by  a lady,  and  such  oil  colours  as  my  friend 
Delanoy  could  furnish,  I painted  my  second  oil  picture,  a lull- 
length  figure  of  Washington.  The  canvas  was  prepared  by 
myself ; and  was  suspended  by  cords,  but  without  stretching 
frame.  I placed  my  hero  on  the  field  of  battle  at  Princeton. 

I did  not  take  the  liberty  to  throw  off  his  hat,  or  omit  the 
black  and  w hite  cockade  ; but  in  full  uniform,  booted  and 
spurred,  he  stood  most  heroically  alone — for  the  figures  in  the 
back-ground  l had  thrown  to  a most  convenient  distance. — 
There  was  General  Mercer,  dying  in  precisely  the  same  atti- 
tude that  West  had  adopted  for  Wolfe — two  authors  may  think 
alike — a few  soldiers,  with  a great  deal  of  smoke,  completed 
the  picture. 

The  education  which  prepared  me  for  entering  the  laby- 
rinth of  London,  alone  and  unguided,  at  the  age  of  eighteen, 
ought  to  be  before  the  reader.  The  winter  previous  to  my 
voyage  1 had  attended  an  evening  school  for  French,  and 
gained  a superficial  knowledge  of  the  language  : and,  from 
the  dancing  school  of  William  Hulet,  who,  with  his  sons,  ac- 
complished several  generations  of  New7  Yorkers,  I carried  the 
reputation  of  one  learned  in  that  valuable  mystery — it  was 
more  than  my  French  master  could  say  for  my  grammar. 

Another  branch  of  my  education  will  throw  further  light 
on  my  fitness  for  self-government  in  London.  I had  been  in- 
troduced to  the  billiard  tables  of  New’ York,  not  as  a gambler, 
but  an  idler,  and  of  course  profited  by  the  company  I found  at 
such  places.  During  the  w'inter  previous  to  my  departure  my 
evenings  were  divided  between  a billiard  room  on  Crane 
Wharf  and  sleigh  rides  out  of  town,  with  cards  and  dancing. 

The  May  of  1784  arrived,  and  on  the  4th  1 embarked  in 
the  good  ship  Betsy,  Thomas  Watson  commander  ; taking 
with  me  my  copy  from  the  print  of  the  youth  rescued  from 
the  shark,  and  my  great  picture  ofWashington  at  Princeton, 
as  my  credentials  to  Benjamin  West,  who  had  consented  to 
receive  me.  I had,  previously  to  the  Shark  picture,  made  a 
copy  of  the  Death  of  Wolfe,  in  Indian  ink,  of  the  size  ofWoo- 
lett’s  engraving,  which  would  certainly  have  been  the  more 
acceptable  specimen  to  have  carried  to  the  author  of  the  ori- 
ginal ; but  I had,  in  the  simplicity  of  my  heart,  preferred  the 
copy  from  Copley,  because  I had  done  it  better. 

To  cross  the  Atlantic  was  not,  in  1784,  as  now7,  an  every- 
day business,  and  performed  by  every  body.  Heretofore,  go- 


256 


First  interview  with  West. 


ing  from  America  to  England  was  called  going  home — that 
time  had  nearly  passed  away- — hut  1 did  not  feel  that  I was 
going  to  a land  of  strangers.  We  entered  the  Thames  about 
the  middle  of  June,  and  anchored  off  Gravesend,  at  which 
place  I first  touched  European  ground.  At  Tower-hill,  the 
next  day,  1 entered  London.  Having  procured  London-made 
clothes,  and  sent,  forward  my  recommendatory  pictures,  Capt. 
Effingham  Lawrence,  my  father’s  friend,  and  an  American, 
accompanied  me  to  Newman-street,  and  guided  me  through 
a long  gallery  hung  with  sketches  and  designs — and  then 
through  a lofty  anti-chamber,  filled  with  gigantic  paintings, 
to  the  inner  painting  room  of  the  artist ; where  he  sat  at 
work  upon  an  esel-picture  for  the  Empress  of  Russia.  It 
was  the  beautiful  composition  of  Lear  and  Cordelia. 

The  painter  received  his  friend'LawTence  cordially.  The 
sea  captain  and  the  artist  were  both  quakers  by  birth  and  early 
education,  and  both  had  abandoned  the  language,  manners, 
and  costume  of  the  sect ; and  the  powdered  hair,  side  burls, 
and  silk  stockings  of  that  driy  gave  no  indications  of  quaker- 
ism.  After  my  first  introduction,  Mr.  West  led  us  back  to  the 
room  we  had  passed  through,  and  where  my  specimens  were 
deposited.  He  first  examined  the  drawing  in  Indian  ink.  I 
stood  on  trial,  and  awaited  sentence.  44  This  is  very  well.” — 
I felt  that  all  was  safe.  44  But  it  only  indicates  a talent  for 
engraving.”  I sunk  from  summer  heat  to  freezing  point. — - 
My  friend  seized  the  painting  and  unrolled  it  on  the  floor. 
The  artist  smiled  — the  thermometer  rose.  44  This  shows  some 
talent  for  composition.”  He  appeared  pleased  ; and  looking 
at  the  distant  figures,  smiled  to  see  an  awkward  imitation  of 
his  own  General  Wolfe,  dressed  in  blue,  to  represent  the  death 
of  General  Mercer  ; and  the  Yankees  playing  the  part  of  the 
British  grenadiers,  and  driving  red  coats  before  them.  I was 
encouraged.  My  friend  was  directed  to  No.  84,  Charlotte- 
street,  Rathbone-place,  where  rooms  had  been  engaged  for 
me.  Mr.  West  offered  his  casts  for  my  practice  when  I should 
be  ready  to  draw.  Before  leaving  the  house  of  the  great 
painter,  it  may  be  supposed  that  I gazed,  with  all  the  wonder 
of  ignorance  and  the  enthusiasm  of  youth,  upon  the  paintings 
then  in  the  rooms,  which  were  many  of  them  for  the  King’s 
chapel,  Windsor.  The  one  most  impressive  was,  Moses  re- 
ceiving the  law. 

I was  now7  left  master  of  my  own  actions,  and  of  two  rooms 
?n  the  house  of  Robert  Davy,  Esq.  I was  put  in  possession 
*>f  a painting  room  on  the  first  floor,  or  second  story,  and  a 
furnished  bed-chamber  immediately  over  it  : and  for  these. 


25  r 


jFYrsf  year  m London . 

and  for  my  board,  fire,  &c.  I was  to  pay  a guinea  a week. — 
After  seeing  the  lions  of  the  Tower,  and  of  other  parts  of  Lon- 
don, I sat  down  to  draw  in  black  and  white  chalks  from  the 
bust  of  Cicero  ; and  having  mastered  that,  in  every  point  of 
view,  I drew  from  the  Fighting  Gladiator,  (so  called) — and 
my  drawing  gained  me  permission  to  enter  the  Academy  at 
Somerset  House.  I know  not  why — perhaps,  because  I was 
too  timid  to  ask  Mr.  West  to  introduce  me,  or  too  bashful 
and  awkward  to  introduce  myself;  but  I never  made  use  of 
the  permission. 

I had  an  awe  of  distinguished  men  that  caused  many  weak- 
nesses in  my  conduct ; a bashfulness  that  required  encouraging, 
at  the  same  time  that  I was  first  of  the  boldest  among  my  com- 
panions— but  so  it  was  ; I went  with  my  portfolio,  port-crayon, 
chalks  and  paper,  and  delivered  them  to  the  porter,  made 
some  excuse  for  not  going  in,  and  walked  off;  I never  enter- 
ed the  school  or  saw  my  portfolio  again. 

This  monomania  (it  was  little  less)  was  encouraged  by  the 
consciousness  of  the  deficiency  of  my  education  and  know- 
ledge upon  all  subjects. 

The  drawings  above-mentioned,  and  a few  pictures  in  oil, 
executed  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Davy,  who  taught  me  to 
set  a palette  as  he  had  been  taught  in  Rome,  were  all  the 
records  that  remained  of  my  exertions  to  become  a painter, 
which  the  year  1784  produced. 

Wright  Post,  a youth  of  New-York,  born  on  the  same  day 
with  myself,  had  been  sent  to  study  surgery  with  the  then  cele- 
brated Sheldon.  Post  attended  to  his  studies  assiduously,  but 
found  leisure  to  join  me  in  my  idleness.  With  him  and  other 
young  men,  this  invaluable  portion  of  my  life  was  worse  than 
wasted.  The  next  summer  Mr.  West  and  family  were  at 
Windsor.  Mr.  Davy  and  his  family  in  Devonshire.  And  when 
my  companion,  Post,  was  not  with  me  on  some  party  of  plea- 
sure he  supped  with  me  at  Charlotte-street,  where  I was  willing 
at  my  own  charge  to  make  up  in  the  evening  for  the  eternal 
mutton  of  my  landlord’s  dinner-table. 

At  the  time  I left  my  portfolio  at  Somerset  House,  (a  wet 
autumnal  evening,)  I suffered  from  what  terminated  in  an  ab- 
cess,  and  confined  me  to  my  bed  or  bed-chamber  during  the 
winter.  Post  was  my  physician,  and  passed  much  of  his  time 
in  my  company,  as  did  my  townsman  Andrew  Smyth,  and 
Raphael  West.  Sheldon  at  length  attended  to  me  at  the  re- 
quest of  his  pupil  and  not  too  soon.  Health  at  length  return- 
ed, and  in  May  1 attended  the  first  exhibition  I had  seen  at 
Somerset  House.  Thus  passed  a year  in  London — lost  to  all 

33 


258 


Neglect  of  study. 

improvement  except  what  I have  above-mentioned,  and  some 
desultory  reading  during  my  illness. 

In  the  summer  of  1785  I copied  Mr.  West’s  picture  ol 
“ The  Choice  of  Hercules,”  and  painted  a few  portraits  of  my 
friends.  The  return  of  health  brought  an  overflow  of  animal 
spirits.  The  theatres — Vauxhall — parties  on  foot  to  Rich- 
mond-hill  and  on  horseback  to  Windsor,  and  every  dissipation 
suggested  by  my  companions  or  myself,  was  eagerly  entered 
into.  I look  back  with  astonishment  at  the  activity  of  my 
idleness,  and  the  thoughtlessness  of  consequences  with  which 
I acted.  The  number  of  my  companions  increased,  and  the 
long  absence  from  home  of  the  father  of  one  of  them,  afforded 
an  opportunity  to  the  son,  left  master  of  the  house,  (which  had 
no  mistress,)  to  assemble  us  for  mirth  and  midnight  revelry. 
Raphael  West  came  in  for  his  share  of  this,  and  his  derelic- 
tions were  probably  scored  up  to  my  account  where  nothing 
appeared  on  the  credit  side. 

Every  source  of  information  was  neglected.  I thought  only 
of  the  present,  and  that  was  full  of  delight  to  my  empty  mind. 
I seldom  saw  Mr.  West  except  when  invited  to  dine,  which  was 
generally  when  he  had  Americans  recently  arrived  at  his 
table.  He  sawr  no  proofs  of  my  industry,  and  heard  no  good 
reports  from  Mr.  Davy.  I was  often  with  Raphael,  his  son, 
who  painted  a very  little — played  on  the  fiddle  or  hautboy  a 
great  deal,  and  amused  himself  in  the  room  sometimes  occu- 
pied by  Trumbull,  at  the  commencement  of  the  gallery.  My 
visits  were  of  little  advantage  to  myself,  and  none  to  my  friend 
Rafe.  Ben,  Mr.  West’s  second  son,  was  at  school.  Trumbull 
was  awfully  above  me  and  my  companion,  and  I only  accident- 
ally met  him  ; sometimes  in  the  small  painting-room  above- 
noticed,  and  sometimes  in  the  rooms  beyond  the  gallery  or 
Mr.  West’s  rooms,  where  I first  saw  the  beautiful  pictures  of 
the  Battle  of  Bunker’s-hill  and  Death  of  Montgomery.  I re- 
ceived neither  advice  nor  instruction  from  him. 

It  was  probably  during  this  summer  of  1785  that  I received 
one  of  the  few  lessons  which  I put  myself  in  the  way  of  re- 
ceiving from  my  ostensible  master.  I presume  that  I carried 
something  for  his  inspection  which  1 had  painted.  I would 
willingly  think  so  ; and  probably  he  found  it  deficient  in  keep- 
ing. My  monomania  prevented  me  from  asking  questions. 
He  was  at  work  in  the  room  where  I had  first  seen  him,  and 
his  subject  at  this  time  was  a landscape  ; a scene  in  Windsor- 
forest,  with  the  figures  of  the  king  and  his  suite  on  horseback 
hunting  in  the  distance,  and  a frightened  sow  and  pigs  near 
the  foreground.  He  elucidated  the  doctrine  of  light  and 


259 


Contemplation  of  the  universe. 

shadow  by  drawing  a circle  on  an  unoccupied  canvas,  and 
touching  in  the  light  with  white  chalk,  the  shadow  by  black, 
and  leaving  the  cloth  for  the  half- tint  and  reflexes.  He  then 
pointed  to  a head  in  the  room  to  show  that  this  theory  was 
there  in  practice,  and  turning  to  the  landscape  said,  that  even 
the  masses  of  foliage  on  the  oak-tree  there  represented  were 
painted  on  the  same  principle.  All  this  has  long  been  familiar 
to  every  artist,  and  that  this  lesson  was  thought  necessary  is 
perhaps  a proof  of  the  little  progress  I had  made  in  the  rudi- 
ments of  the  art  I professed  to  study.  Yet  I had  a better  eye 
for  form  than  for  colour.  I was  discouraged  by  finding  that 
I did  not  perceive  the  beauty  or  the  effect  of  colours  as  others 
appeared  to  do.  Whether  this  was  a natural  defect,  or  con- 
nected with  the  loss  of  the  sight  of  an  eye,  I cannot  determine. 

The  return  of  full  health  to  a youth  of  nineteen  may  be  said 
to  come  as  a torrent  of  delight,  without  using  the  language  of 
figures  which  poetry  deals  in.  It  was  in  my  case  absolutely 
intoxicating,  and  brought  with  it  no  particle  of  the  precious 
w'isdom  which  experience  might  be  supposed  to  mingle  in 
the  stream.  The  enjoyment  of  the  present  was  never  inter- 
rupted by  the  remembrance  of  the  past  or  anticipation  of  the 
future.  How  the  blessing  of  health  which  I every  day  ex- 
posed was  preserved,  I know  not — certainly  by  no  prudence 
on  my  part. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  contemplation  of  the  solar  s}^stem 
and  the  infinite  multitude  of  stars  beyond,  each  of  which  is  the 
centre  of  a similar  system  having  its  planets  revolving  around 
it,  filled  with  myriads  of  intelligent  beings — and  the  whole  re- 
volving around  one  centre,  gives  the  clearest  notion  of  God  that 
our  limited  faculties  can  conceive ; the  creator,  upholder,  di- 
rector and  ultimate  perfecter  of  the  whole;  but  perhaps  if  we 
turn  our  observation  within  and  contemplate  the  wonderful 
machine,  man — the  adaptation  of  the  parts  to  the  whole — the 
connection  of  mind  and  matter — the  incomprehensibility  of  the 
spirit  which  we  feel,  yet  cannot  obtain  a definite  knowledge 
of — perhaps,  if  we  study  man,  a mere  atom  in  the  universe, 
wre  shall  come  to  the  same  result ; a knowledge  of  God 
strengthening  the  previously  attained  notions  of  his  infinite 
goodness ; but  certainly  the  contemplation  of  both  must  lead 
to  a confirmation  of  that  religion  which  teaches  love  to  God 
and  to  our  neighbour.  Yet  how  difficult  has  been  the  attain- 
ment of  this  know  ledge  and  how  prone  has  man  been  to  forget 
his  Creator,  or  to  turn  the  religion  of  love  into  the  idolatry  of 
fear. 

Reader,  this  is  not  without  connection  with  the  subject  be- 


200 


The  Mess . 


fore  us.  The  uneducated  youth  is  as  blind  as  the  savage  : he 
sees  in  the  wonders  which  surround  him  no  more  than  the  ido- 
later sees  of  God.  So  to  me  the  wonders  of  art  with  which  I 
was  surrounded  communicated  no  instruction,  because  of  the 
lack  of  previous  education.  If  I caught  a glimpse  of  their 
perfections,  it  was  only  to  fill  me  with  dismay. 

Many  a day  was  wasted  in  walking  to  the  New-York  Cof- 
fee-house, near  the  Royal  Exchange,  under  pretence  of  look- 
ing for  letters  from  home.  The  morning  lounged  away,  I dined 
at  the  Cock  eating-house,  where  the  master  with  a white  apron 
waited  upon  me  to  know7  if  all  was  satisfactory,  and  then,  (the 
business  of  the  day  over,)  rolled  away  in  his  coach  to  his 
country  seat.  Dining  and  port  wine  over,  there  was  “ no  use 
in  going  home,”  the  theatres  stood  midway ; and  when  the 
play  was  over,  I might  rest  from  a lost  day,  and  not  dream  that 
l had  been  doing  wrong  or  neglecting  right.  Many  a day 
was  spent  in  pedestrian  expeditions  to  Richmond-hill,  Hamp- 
ton Court  and  Greenwich  ; or  in  rides  to  more  distant  places 
around  the  metropolis.  Sometimes  it  was  an  excuse  that  pic- 
tures were  to  be  seen — but  I looked  upon  pictures  without  the 
necessary  knowledge  that  would  have  made  them  instructive. 

Captain  Lawrence  and  Mr.  West,  it  appears,  did  not  feel 
themselves  authorized  to  control  and  advise  me;  and  my  con- 
nection with  these  worthy  men  became  merely  that  of  occa- 
sional visits,  and  frequent  invitations  to  their  tables.  I pre- 
vailed on  Lawrence  to  permit  me  to  paint  a group  of  his  beau- 
tiful boys,  but  I undertook  more  than  1 could  accomplish  it 
was  never  finished. 

After  being  two  years  with  Mr.  Davy,  I,  with  the  thought- 
lessness which  characterized  my  actions,  left  Charlotte-street, 
Rathbone-place,  without  consulting  Mr.  West,  and  removed  to 
a furnished  first-floor  in  Broad-street,  Soho.  Davy  was  not 
backward  in  communicating  my  change  to  West,  and  I presume, 
in  assigning  motives  unfavourable.  West  recommended  the 
apartment  I abandoned  to  Fulton.  My  new  establishment 
was  elegant,  and  increased  my  expenses.  I breakfasted  in 
the  house  and  for  dinner,  made  one  of  a mess,  principally 
half-pay  officers,  who  had  served  in  America.  This  eating 
and  drinking  club  was  established  at  a porter  house  in  Ox- 
ford-street. The  man’s  name  was  Ensworth,  and  by  adding 
a letter,  an  eccentric  old  gentleman,  who  occasionally  visited 
the  place,  designated  the  house  end's  worth.  He  was  a humo- 
rist, and  used  sometimes  to  amuse  the  young  men  by  a pre- 
tence of  telling  their  fortunes  or  giving  oracular  advice  from 
his  interpretation  of  the  individual’*  name.  The  landlord’s 


261 


A youth  abandoned  without  control. 

name,  he  would  say,  was  a warning  to  all  not  to  visit  his  house 
or  any  one  similar.  The  places  where  character,  fortune,  and 
worth  must  end.  “ And  what  is  your  name,  sir?”  “ Dunlap.” 
“Very  well,  sir,  take  warning  ; Done — cease — stop — forbear — 
that  is  the  first  part.  Lap — a mode  of  drinking — cease 

drinking.”  And  thus  more  or  less  happily  he  would  proceed 
through  the  company. 

During  this  period  of  my  life  had  1 any  character  ? I was 
a favourite  with  my  companions — I was  always  full  of  life  and 
gaity  ; and  moved  by  a desire  to  please.  I was  by  them  sup- 
posed to  possess  humour  or  wit.  I had  some  little  knowledge 
of  music,  and  could  sing  to  satisfy  my  associates ; but  I did 
nothing  to  satisfy  the  man  who  had  it  in  his  power  to  serve 
me.  My  follies  and  my  faults  w?ere  reported,  and  exaggerated 
to  Mr.  West,  and  as  he  saw  no  appearances  of  the  better  self, 
which  resided  in  me,  (for  there  was  a better  self,)  he  left  me  to 
my  fate. 

The  members  of  the  mess  agreed  to  pay  Ensworth  one  shil- 
ling, cash,  for  each  dinner  at  which  they  were  present.  A 
course  of  meat  was  followed  by  a dessert  of  pudding  or  pies, 
and  each  man  was  allowed  a pint  of  porter  as  table  drink. 
However,  scarcely  a day  passed  but  brandy-punch  followed 
the  dessert,  and  sometimes  w'ine.  Those  who  know  what  the 
mess-room  of  officers  generally  is,  may  suppose  that  the  warn- 
ing of  the  old  man — “ cease  drinking,”  might  sometimes  be  of 
service. 

At  my  new  establishment  I painted  several  portraits  and 
composed  some  historical  pieces,  one  of  which  I will  mention 
(the  onty  one  which  attained  something  like  finish,)  the  subject 
was  from  Hoole’s  Ariosto.  I had  attempted  to  represent  Ferau 
gazing  with  horror  upon  the  ghost,  who  rises  from  the  water 
with  the  helmet  in  his  right  hand,  and  points  to  it  with  his 
left.  Lieutenant  Spencer,  of  the  Queen’s  Rangers,  (one  of  our 
mess,)  had  been  my  model,  and  stood  for  Ferau , and  a very 
fine  figure  he  was;  but  Spencer  had  attempted  to  figure  on  the 
stage,  had  failed,  and  his  attitude  was  strained — his  expression 
exaggerated,  (as  might  be  expected  from  a bad  actor,)  and  my 
Ferau  partook  of  his  faults  more  than  his  beauty.  The  steel 
armour  of  Ferau  had  received  a touch  from  my  friend  Raphael 
West.  The  ghost  1 had  studied  from  the  looking-glass. 
When  I showed  this  picture  to  Mr.  West,  I unexpectedly  heard 
him  say  to  one  present,  “ That  figure  is  very  good,”  and 
turning  towards  him,  was  upon  the  point  of  saying,  “ Rafe 
helped  me  with  the  armour,”  when  to  my  surprise  I found  that 
he  pointed  to  the  ghost,  for  which  I had  been  my  own  model. 


262 


Visit  to  Burleigh  House. 

On  this  same  occasion  I showed  the  great  painter  a portrait  I 
had  painted.  It  was  freely  touched,  well  coloured,  and  full  of 
expression — better  than  any  thing  I had  done  by  far.  He  gave 
it  due  praise,  but  observed,  “You  have  made  the  two  sides  of 
the  figure  alike — each  has  the  same  sweeping  swell — he  looks 
like  a rolling  pin.”  I might  have  said  truly  that  it  was  cha- 
racteristic— but  I took  the  lesson  in  silence,  and  made  no  de- 
fence, although  I knew  that  my  subject  was  in  fact  “ like  a 
rolling  pin.”  Silence,  in  this  instance,  may  have  been  com- 
mendable ; but  my  habit  of  silence,  in  presence  of  those  whom 
I considered  my  superiors,  was  very  detrimental  to  me.  The 
person  who  asks  for  information  gains  it.  The  questioner  may 
be  at  times  irksome,  but  that  is  for  want  of  tact.  He  should 
be  a judicious  questioner  and  a good  listener.  I stood  in  the 
presence  of  the  artist  and  wondered  at  his  skill,  but  I stood 
silent,  abashed,  hesitating — and  withdrew  unenlightened  ; — 
discouraged  by  the  consciousness  of  ignorance  and  the  raono- 
moniacal  want  of  courage  to  elicit  the  information  I eagerly 
desired.  Let  every  student  be  apprised  that  those  who  can 
best  inform  him,  are  most  willing  to  do  so. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Visit  to  Lincolnshire— Pedestrian  tour  with  Dr.  Mitchill  to  Oxford— Old  soldier 
of  “ Wolfe’s  own”— Blenheim— Return  to  New-York— Renounce  painting  and 
become  merchant— Literary  studies— Become  manager  of  the  New-York  thea- 
tre— Bankruptcy — Resort  to  painting  miniatures — Success — Engage  with  T.  A. 
Cooper— Again  recur  to  miniature  painting — 1813,  recommence  painting  in  oii 
— Appointment  in  the  pay-master’s  department— Travelling  westward— Re- 
sume painting,  and  visit  Norfolk,  Montreal  and  Quebec—  Second  and  third 
visits  to  Norfolk— Large  exhibition  pictures. 

Among  the  collections  of  paintings  which  I have  said  I 
visited  with  little  or  no  improvement,  was  that  at  Burleigh 
House,  near  Stamford,  in  Lincolnshire.  I had  an  acquaint- 
ance engaged  in  mercantile  business  of  the  name  of  Linton, 
a man  older  than  myself,  attached  to  me  for  qualities  compati- 
ble with  my  thoughtless  career,  (though  himself  a man  of 
thought)  perhaps  for  inexhaustible  good  spirits,  frankness 
and  unweariable  cheerfulness.  His  father  had  been  a clergy- 
man of  Stamford,  and  his  widowed  mother,  with  two  sisters, 
resided  there.  He  was  about  to  visit  them  and  proposed  that 
I should  accompany  him.  It  suited  me  exactly.  Each  with 
a small  trifle  of  baggage  proceeded  to  the  stage-coach,  and  on 


263 


Visit  to  Oxford. 

being  told  that  it  was  full,  mounted  to  the  top,  (although  it 
was  to  be  a night  ride)  and  with  the  guard,  armed  at  all 
points,  for  our  companion  de  voyage,  dashed  off  on  the  road 
for  Scotland.  We  arrived  shortly  after  daylight  at  Stamford, 
and  were  received  with  all  the  warmth  belonging  to  the  Eng- 
lish character  in  that  respectable  class  of  English  society  to 
which  my  friend  belonged — he,  as  the  only  son  and  brother, 
and  I,  as  his  friend.  We  soon  saw  the  lions  of  the  place, 
and  I found  that  I was  a lion.  The  next  day  was  Sunday, 
and  my  friend  said,  “ It  is  already  buzzed  abroad  that  I have 
brought  down  an  American  with  me,  and  when  we  go  to 
church,  the  people  will  expect  to  see  a black  or  a copper- 
coloured  Indian  at  least;  I was,  at  that  time,  as  fair  as  West 
was  when  Cardinal  Albani  asked  if  the  young  American  was 
as  fair  as  he,  an  old  olive-coloured  Italian,  was.  We  went  to 
church,  and  I presume  the  good  folks  thought  it  was  an  impu- 
dent attempt  at  imposition  to  pass  me  off  for  an  American. 
How  could  it  be  otherwise  with  those  who  had  been  taught 
by  the  most  sanctioned  journals  of  their  country,  that  u an 
American’s  first  plaything  is  a rattlesnake’s  tail?” 

We  staid  a few  delightful  days  at  Stamford.  1 saw  the 
pictures  at  the  castle — Madonnas  and  Bambinos,  and  Magda- 
lens,  and  Crucifixions,  but]  I believe  all  did  not  advance  me 
one  step  in  my  profession. 

My  view  of  the  collection  of  painting  at  Blenheim  House 
was  seen  in  company  of  my  friend  Samuel  Latham  Mitchill, 
who,  having  returned  from  Edinburgh  an  M.  D.,  proposed  a 
visit  to  Oxford  and  its  neighbourhood.  On  this  occasion  I 
took  with  me  a blank-book  and  kept  a journal  which  I still 
possess,  and  which?  is  somewhat  of  a curiosity.  One  of  the 
most  interesting  anecdotes  of  this  pedestrian  tour  I published 
in  a former  work,  from  memory,  the  journal  being  at  the  time 
lost.  I will  give  some  extracts  from  this  manuscript : — 

“ After  securing  a passage  for  our  trunk  in  the  stage  for 
Friday,  Doctor  Mitchill  and  myself  commenced  our  foot  ex- 
pedition on  Thursday  morning,  November  16th,  1786,  at 
eleven  o’clock  ; and  proceeding  on  our  way,  passed  Kensing- 
ton Gravel  Pits,  and  stopped  at  Norcoat  to  refresh  ourselves 
with  a glass  of  ale.”  I will  remark,  that  we  set  out  in  the 
rain,  with  great  coats  on  and  boots,  and  often  literally  waded 
through  the  mud. 

On  the  17th,  before  breakfast,  we  pursued  our  walk  through 
rain  and  mud,  and  rested  at  Stoken  Church.  The  next  day 
we  had  an  adventure,  which  I always  considered  remarkable, 
in  the  chapter  of  accidents.  “ We  had  not  proceeded  many 


264 


The  veteran . 


miles,  when  an  aged  man  attracted  our  attention.  He  carried 
nought  but  a staff : his  garments  were  wretchedly  tattered  : his 
shoes  worn  out,  and  falling  from  his  feet,  seemed,  like  their 
owner,  to  have  suffered  much  from  the  ravages  of  time,  but 
more  from  hard  service.  He  did  not  address  us  at  meeting ; 
Mitchill,  the  interrogator,  stopped  him.  After  the  usual  salu- 
tation we  began  our  inquiries  ; and  he  told  us  that  he  was  a 
soldier,  returning  from  Shropshire  to  London,  for  some  papers 
he  had  lost,  which  entitled  him  to  seven  pounds  a year,  the 
reward  of  his  faithful  services.  I asked  him  where  he  had 
served. — “ In  America — under  Wolfe — I saw  him  fall — I re- 
ceived this  wound  in  my  cheek  that  day — lay  your  finger  in 
it,  sir.”  I then  felt  interested  in  the  tale  of  this  veteran,  and 
with  earnestness  demanded  what  regiment  he  belonged  to. — 
“The  forty-seventh,  sir,”  said  he.  “ What  officers  do  you 
know  of  that  corps  ?”  He  mentioned  the  names  of  several  of 
his  old  commanders.  1 asked  him  if  he  remembered  an  offi- 
cer of  the  name  of  Dunlap.  “ Mr.  Dunlap,”  said  he,  “ cer- 
tainly I do  ; he  was  my  lieutenant — to  be  sure  I remember 
him.”  “ And  where  were  you  after  the  French  war?  Were 
you  in  New  Jersey,  at  Perth  Amboy “ I was  not  quar- 
tered at  Perth  Amboy,  sir,  but  at  Brunswick,  with  that  part 
of  the  regiment.  We  were  removed  to  New  York,  and  then 
to  Boston.  1 was  at  Lexington  and  Bunker-hill,  and  I was 
taken  with  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga.”  While  he  spoke  his 
countenance  was  enlightened,  and  he  seemed  to  feel  himself 
again  a soldier.  “ Suppose  that  I am  the  son  of  that  Lieut. 
Dunlap?”  “Are  you?”  he  cried.  And  upon  my  assuring 
him  that  I was,  he  seized  my  hand  with  an  honest  ardour ; and 
if  he  could  have  afforded  a tear,  I believe  it  would  have  start- 
ed. “ And  after  all  your  toils— after  all  your  services — how 
has  your  country  provided  for  you  ?”  “ Why,  well,”  said 

he  “ seven  pounds  a year  are  enough  for  me  in  my  native  vil- 
lage : but  having  lost  my  certificates,  I am  now  without  a half- 
penny to  buy  food  or  procure  me  lodgings  on  my  way  to  Lon- 
don. See  !”  said  he,  searching  his  rags,  “ see  what  I have 
lived  on  these  two  days !”  and  he  produced  a half-eaten,  un- 
cooked turnip.  “ All  I have  eaten  these  two  days  is  half  of 
this  turnip.”  As  we  stood  mute  he  thought  we  doubted  his 
word,  and  added,  “ May  I be  damned  if  I lie !”  Our  sol- 
diers swore  terribly  in  Flanders. 

As  we  were  within  sight  of  a tavern,  we  turned  him  back 
with  us ; and  I had  the  pleasure,  while  breakfasting,  to  afford 
a good  meal  to  my  father’s  old  companion  in  arms  ; and  on 
parting,  gave  him  wherewithal  to  make  his  journey  comfort- 


Windsor — return  to  London . 


265 


able  to  the  War-office.  The  okl  man  said  he  was  then  sixty- 
six  years  of  age : and  when  he  left  us,  he  took  us  each  by  the 
hand  and  blessed  us.  Turning  to  us,  at  a few  paces  distance, 
he  said,  “ If  ever  you  see  your  father,  perhaps  he  may  remem- 
ber old  Wain wright.” 

Between  the  hours  of  one  and  two  we  gained  sight  of  the 
University  from  Shotover-hill.  My  journal  is  barren  of  all 
interest  respecting  Oxford  : probably  no  journalizing  tourist 
ever  visited  the  place  more  ignorant  than  the  author. 

On  the  22d  we  walked  to  Blenheim,  and  1 saw  the  Duke 
of  Marlborough’s  collection  of  pictures  with  some  pleasure 
and  little  profit.  The  house,  furniture,  park,  &c*  were  objects 
of  admiration.  We  walked  about  Woodstock,  and  then,  cud- 
gel in  hand,  returned  to  the  Angel  inn,  Oxford.  The  next 
day  we  departed  for  London,  having  sent  our  trunk  on  before 
us.  Though  humble  pedestrians,  we  passed  through  a lane 
of  expectant  waiters,  chamber-maids,  cooks,  scullions,  &lc.  as 
great  as  if  we  had  been  travellers  with  coach  and  six.  We 
changed  our  route  in  returning*  and  stopped  a day  and  a night 
at  Windsor  ; and  next  day,  after  early  breakfast,  attended  the 
King’s  chapel — saw  the  royal  family — and  at  nine,  leaving 
the  Castle,  arrived  in  Oxford-street,  London,  at  two  P.  M. 
and  dined  with  the  mess  at  four. 

Except  the  journeys  to  Stamford  and  Oxford,  I saw  nothing 
of  the  interior  of  England.  Parties  of  pleasure  to  Windsor, 
Richmond,  Hampton  Court,  Greenwich,  Woolwich,  either 
on  horseback  or  on  foot,  were  frequent ; and  I passed  a few 
delightful  days  at  the  residence  at  the  Rev.  Mr.  Moore*  where 
the  widow  and  family  of  Mr.  John  Smyth  were  on  a visit. 
Mrs.  Smyth  was  of  the  family  of  the  rector  of  North  Cray, 
and  both  relatives  to  the  afterwards  celebrated  Sir  John 
Moore.  At  this  delightful  place  I heard,  for  the  only  time, 
the  notes  of  the  nightingale.  I painted  and  presented  to  Mrs. 
Smyth  several  portraits,  two  originals  and  two  copies,  of  her 
relatives,  one  from  Opie. 

This  life  of  unprofitable  idleness  was  terminated  by  a sum- 
mons to  return  home,  brought  by  Captain  Watson,  who  in- 
formed me  that  my  passage  was  paid,  and  he  should  sail  in 
August.  I made  preparations  for  embarkation  ; my  pictures 
(poor  things !)  were  packed,  and  with  prepared  cloths,  co- 
lours, &c.,  were  shipped.  Thus  ended  a residence  in  London 
of  sufficient  length  to  have  made  a man  of  abilities  feebler  than 
mine  a painter.  But  my  character  was  at  first  mistaken — I 
was  discouraged  and  led  astray,  and  gave  up  the  pursuit  of 
my  profession  for  the  pursuits  which  youth,  health,  and  a dis- 

34 


266  Return  home  and  abandon  painting . 

position  to  please  and  be  pleased,  presented  to  me.  In  Au- 
gust, 1787,  I embarked  to  return  home  with  the  same  ship 
and  captain  that  brought  me  all  alive  with  the  best  disposi- 
tions to  improve  myself,  to  the  metropolis  of  Britain,  in  June, 
1784. 

After  a passage  of  seven  weeks,  we  arrived  in  the  begin- 
ning of  October.  The  weather  had  permitted  me  to  set  up 
my  esel  in  the  cabin,-  and  I painted  two  portraits  of  our  cap- 
tain during  the  voyage.  When  the  pilot  came  on  board,  I 
was  called  up  from  over  the  bows,  where,,  in  jacket  and  trovv- 
sers,  I was  assisting  a sailor  to  paint  the  figure-head  of  the 
good  ship  Betsy.  I heard  that  my  parents  were  well,  and 
we  were  soon  cheered  by  the  beauties  of  the  bay  of  New- 
York,  and  a view  of  the  city,  with  old  Fort  George  towering 
in  front.  Before  landing,  we  were  boarded  by  a boat,  and  I 
was  greeted  by  my  father  and  my  friend  Wright  Post.  I soon 
found  myself  in  my  mother’s  arms,  and  surrounded  by  the 
black  faces,  white  teeth,  and  staring  eyes  of  the  negroes  of 
the  family. 

In  due  time,  my  pictures,  canvasses,  colours,  &c.,  were 
landed.  I was  installed  as  a portrait-painter  in  my  father’s 
house,  and  had  sitters ; but  I felt  my  own  ignorance,  and  felt 
the  superiority  of  Joseph  Wright,  who  was  my  next  door 
neighbour,  and  painting  with  but  little  success  as  to  emolu- 
ment. By  degrees  my  emp^^ers  became  fewer,  my  efforts 
were  unsatisfactory  to  myself.  I sought  a refuge  in  litera- 
ture, and  after  a year  or  two  abandoned  painting,  and  joined 
my  father  in  mercantile  business. 

It  was  on  an  evening  of  this  winter,  that,  sitting  by  the  fire, 
and  conversing  with  an  English  gentleman  on  the  subject  of 
pictures,  he  asked  me  if  1 had  any  idea  of  a picture  which 
should  represent  all  surrounding  objects  as  they  appear  in 
nature  when  we  turn  and  look  from  a central  spot  ? I aiv 
swered,  “Yes.  It  has  been  familiar  with  me  from  childhood, 
though  I do  not  think  I have  ever  before  spoken  of  it.  Often 
when  standing  on  an  eminence,  and  looking  around  me  on  the 
bright  and  glorious  objects,  here  a landscape,  there  a bay  and 
shipping— a city  glittering  in  light— all  the  tints  of  a sky  from 
the  setting  sun  to  the  sober  colours  of  the  opposite  horizon — -I 
have  imagined  myself  surrounded  by  an  upright  circular  can- 
vass, and  depicting  the  scene  just  as  nature  displayed  it,  and 
I have  regretted  that  I could  not  make  the  experiment.” 
“ Thatfs  it!”  was  his  unintelligible  exclamation.  He  then 
told  me,  as  a thing  yet  unknown,  that  an  artist  in  Edinburgh 
had  conceived  the  plan,  made  the  drawings,  and  was  executing 


267 


Literary  pursuits  and  marriage. 

such  a picture  ; that  he  had  helped  him  with  funds,  and  by 
that  means  became  acquainted  with  the  fact.  This  was  the 
first  time  I ever  heard  of  a panorama,  a species  of  picture  then 
unknown  to  the  world. 

It  was  my  good  fortune,  soon  after  my  return,  to  become  a 
member  of  a literary  society  formed  by  young  men  for  mutual 
instruction  and  improvement.  My  friend  Samuel  L.  Mitchill, 
Noah  Webster,  (then  editing  a magazine  in  New-York,)  and 
others  afterwards  known  in  American  literature,  were  mem- 
bers. This  led  to  a more  regular  course  of  study  than  I had 
ever  known.  I sought  assiduously  to  gain  knowledge,  but 
unfortunately  could  not  be  content  without  exposing  my  ig- 
norance by  writing  and  publishing.  I even  planned  an  epic 
poem,  on  the  story  of  Aristomenes,  and  wrote  some  hundred 
verses : fortunately  this  was  not  published.  I was  likewise 
drawn  into  some  societies  called  convivial ; and  as  I had  been 
a member  of  a Buck's  lodge  in  London,  so  at  home  I became 
a Black  Friar  and  a Mason  ; but  happily  I was  withdrawn 
from  this  course  by  marriage  with  Elizabeth,  the  youngest 
daughter  of  Benjamin  Woolsey,  deceased,  and  Anne  his  se- 
cond wife,  the  daughter  of  Doctor  Muirson.  Beside  the  in- 
estimable blessing  of  a good  wife  through  a long  and  check- 
ered life,  I obtained  the  advantage  of  connexion  with  her  rela- 
tives, her  brothers,  her  sisters  and  their  husbands  and  friends. 
I derived  much  advantage  intellectually  from  the  society  of 
the  Rev.  Timothy  Dwight,  afterwards  president  of  Yale  col- 
lege, who  had  married  my  wife’s  sister,  and  at  whose  house 
on  Greenfield  Hill  I passed  some  of  my  happiest  hours.  I was 
now  rescued  from  inevitable  destruction.  I had  lost  the  op- 
portunity of  becoming  a painter,  but  I might  become  a useful 
and  happy  man.  It  will  be  observed,  however,  that  I had  no 
education  or  habits  fitting  me  for  any  definite  pursuit.  My 
character  was  fast  changing,  and  the  monomania  I have  com- 
plained of  was  vanishing,  until  by  degrees  I learned  to  ap- 
preciate m}'self  and  others  with  some  degree  of  justice. 

From  the  year  1789  to  1805  the  events  of  my  life  have  no 
connexion  with  the  arts  of  design.  I was  for  several  years 
an  active  member  of  the  Abolition  Society  of  New-York — a 
trustee  of  the  African  school — and  twice  represented  the  so- 
ciety (in  conjunction  with  other  members)  in  the  conventions 
held  in  Philadelphia,  congress  then  holding  their  sessions  in 
that  city.  I remember  with  pleasure,  that,  as  chairman  of  a 
committee,  l drew  up  a memorial  which  produced  from  con- 
gress one  of  the  most  efficient  acts  against  the  slave-trade,  and 
under  a commission  I afterwards  procured  testimony  which 


268 


The  theatre  and  bankruptcy . 

caused  the  condemnation  of  one  of  those  infernal  instruments 
of  torture,  a slave-ship.  During  this  time  I painted  some 
small  sketchy  likenesses  of  my  friends  C.  B.  Brown,  Elihu 
H.  Smith,  and  a few  others.  My  father  died,  and  I liberated 
the  family  slaves,  retaining  some  as  hired  servants.  I was 
engaged  in  mercantile  journeys.  I visited  Boston  as  a mer- 
chant, and  Philadelphia  several  times  on  mercantile  business, 
and  twice  as  a delegate  to  the  convention  for  promoting  the 
abolition  of  slavery.  I engaged  in  theatrical  speculations, 
and  became  bankrupt  in  1805. 

My  summers  had  been  passed  at  Perth  Amboy,  writing  for 
my  theatre,  and  traversing  hills,  dales,  and  woods,  with 
my  dog  and  my  gun.  I have  attributed,  in  an  early  part 
of  this  autobiography,  the  misfortunes  of  men  to  their  own 
misconduct.  Sickness  is  a great  misfortune,  and  I have 
experienced  much  of  it ; generally  to  be  traced  to  excess 
or  folly  of  some  kind.  During  the  period  above-mentioned, 
l passed  days  in  what  are  called  field  sports,  and  often  under 
the  burning  sun  of  July  and  August,  and  my  just  reward  was 
bilious  fevers — -in  some  instances  to  the  extreme  of  illness  con- 
sistent with  recovery.  I can  remember  distinctly  the  causes 
of  many  severe  attacks  of  illness  at  that  period  and  since,  to 
the  present  time. 

Some  of  the  particulars  of  the  portion  of  my  life  above-men- 
tioned I have  published  as  connected  with  the  History  of  the 
American  Theatre.  Deprived  of  property,  and  a debtor  to 
the  United  States  as  a security  for  the  marshal  of  New-Jersey, 
who  was  a defaulter,  I abandoned  New-York,  and  took  refuge 
with  my  family  in  the  house  of  my  mother,  at  my  native  town 
of  Perth  Amboy. 

I now  turned  my  attention  to  miniature-painting,  and  found 
that  I could  make  what  were  acknowledged  likenesses.  I was 
in  earnest,  and  although  deficient  even  in  the  knowledge  ne- 
cessary to  prepare  ivory  for  the  reception  of  colour,  I im- 

necessary  to  make  exertion  to  procure  money  for  my 
family,  and  I determined  to  try  Albany,  where  I yet  had  never 
been,  as  a place  in  which  work  might  be  obtained.  In  a sloop, 
after  a tedious  passage,  I reached  Hudson  ; where  I found  P. 
Irving,  and  accepted  his  invitation  to  take  part  of  his  gig,  visit 
William  P.  Van  Ness,  and  proceed  together  to  Albany.  After 
two  days  passed  at  Van  Ness’s,  we,  keeping  the  east  side  of 
the  river,  crossed  the  ferry  to  the  old  Dutch  city  in  the  evening 
of  the  third.  Here  I found  my  friend  Judge  Kent,  and  be- 
came acquainted  with  Gideon  Fairman,  then  commencing  his 
career  as  an  engraver.  I took  lodging  at  a boarding-house ; 


proved. 
It  was 


269 


Commence  miniature  painter. 

put  some  miniatures  in  a jeweller’s  window;  consulted  Fair- 
man  as  to  prospects,  and  waited  the  result.  Kent  was  very 
attentive  to  me,  and  took  me  to  the  neighbouring  villages  of 
Troy,  Lansingburgh  and  Waterford — then  very  poor  places 
(as  well  as  Albany)  in  comparison  with  the  present  time.  We 
rode  to  the  Cohoes  and  I was  at  home  in  his  family ; but  my 
board  was  accumulating,  no  application  for  a miniature  was 
made,  and  while  I had  yet  a few  dollars  it  was  necessary  to 
make  another  move.  I determined  on  Boston,  and  after  a 
most  pleasant  and  picturesque  ride,  was  put  down  at  a stage- 
house,  near  the  old  market,  late  in  the  evening.  I immediately 
sallied  forth  to  find  an  eligible  place  for  board  and  lodging, 
and  in  State-street,  almost  the  only  house  still  open,  entered 
a hotel,  and  agreed  for  six  dollars  a week  with  Mr.  Thayer, 
(a  new  landlord  glad  to  receive  a customer,)  and  removing 
my  trunk  I established  myself,  having  money  enough  left  to 
pay  one  week’s  board — and  no  more.  I found  next  morning 
that  Mrs.  Thayer  was  the  daughter  of  Mrs.  Brown,  with  whom 
I had  boarded  many  weeks  in  former  and  more  prosperous 
days. 

The  next  morning,  with  miniatures  in  my  pocket,  I visited 
Cornhill,  and  found  myself  at  home  among  the  booksellers, 
who  had  dealt  in  my  plays  and  were  glad  to  see  the  author. 
With  one  of  these,  Mr.  West,  an  amiable  man,  I left  several 
miniatures  with  my  address,  and  returned  to  my  hotel  to  await 
my  fortune.  In  a few  hours,  while  reading  the  papers,  I heard 
an  inquiry  for  the  miniature  painter,  and  was  greeted  with  the 
question,  “Can  you  paint  my  likeness,  sir?”  Most  joyful 
sounds ! “ Certainly  sir.”  An  appointment  was  made  for 

the  next  morning,  and  I felt  the  first  fifteen  dollars  (the  price 
I had  fixed  on)  already  in  my  pocket.  I had  from  that  time 
forward  constant  employment,  and  sent  with  delight  a part  of 
my  profits  home. 

My  former  Boston  acquaintance  had  mostly  vanished,  but 
I received  calls  and  invitations  from  Josiah  Quincy,  Colonel 
David  Humphreys,  Andrew  Allen  the  British  consul,  and  from 
Powel,  now  manager  of  the  theatre.  Cooper,  Bernard  and 
others  sat  for  their  pictures.  I worked  in  the  forenoon — dined 
out  generally — and,  when  not  engaged,  visited  the  Federal- 
street  theatre — made  free  to  me. 

There  were  at  this  time  two  good  miniature  painters  in 
Boston — Field  and  Malbone  ; the  latter  at  the  very  pinnacle 
of  perfection  in  the  art  for  drawing,  colouring,  truth,  and 
above  all,  taste.  1 met  Field  at  Andrew  Allen’s,  but  never 
became  acquainted  with  him.  With  Malbone  it  was  different. 


270 


A publisher's  dinner. 

I showed  him  my  work,  and  he  exclaimed  with  surprise,  “ I 
wonder  you  do  so  well  when  your  ivory  is  not  prepared.”  He 
made  an  appointment  for  the  purpose  of  showing  me  the  mode 
of  preparation,  which  he  did  one  morning  after  we  had  passed 
the  evening  at  Allen’s,  at  a great  dinner  party.  44  They  told 
me  that  I might  drink  champagne  without  fear  of  headache,” 
said  the  amiable  Malbone,  then  already  in  the  fangs  of  con- 
sumption, 44  but  I can  hardly  see,  and  my  head  is  splitting.” 

Gilbert  C.  Stuart  was  then  boarding  and  painting  at  Cha- 
potin’s  hotel.  His  family  were  not  with  him.  T.  A.  Cooper 
and  his  family  were  at  the  same  house.  I renewed  my 
acquaintance  with  Stuart,  began  in  London,  and  once  before 
renewed  in  New-York.  I did  not  see  much  of  him  at  this 
time.  His  mornings  were  employed  at  his  esel,  and  his  after- 
noons at  the  dinner-table. 

I returned  to  my  family  at  Perth-Amboy,  but  judging  it 
necessary  to  see  the  secretary  of  the  treasury  respecting  the 
debt  incurred  by  the  marshal,  I proceeded  to  the  city  of  Wash- 
ington, taking  my  painting  apparatus  with  me,  and  stopping 
at  Philadelphia  and  Baltimore  on  my  way.  At  Philadelphia 
my  friend  C.  B.  Brown,  now  a married  man  and  settled  near 
his  brothers  and  his  venerable  parents,  gave  me  a home  and  a 
repetition  of  the  pleasures  I had  enjoyed  in  his  society  at  my 
house.  Conrad  was  at  this  time  the  Philadelphia  publisher, 
and  my  friend  was  regularly  an  author  by  profession  and  in 
his  employ.  I have  a memorandum  of  a literary  dinner  at 
Conrad’s,  which,  written  at  the  time,  has  some  claim  to  atten- 
tion. 44  January  14,  1806.  I dined  on  Saturday  at  Conrad’s, 
with  a party  of  literati.  Fessenden  the  author  of  Tractora- 
tion,  Denny,  Mr.  John  Vaughan,  member  of  the  Philosophical 
Society  of  this  place  ; Doctor  Chapman,  one  of  the  founders 
of  the  Edinburgh  Review.  Fessenden  is  a huge,  heavy  fel- 
low, as  big  as  Colonel  Humphreys,  with  features  as  heavy  as 
his  person,  and  an  address  rather  awkward  ; but  his  conversa- 
tion, setting  aside  Yankeeisms,  is  agreeable,  and  evinces  an 
amiable  disposition.  He  is  a mechanical  as  well  as  poetical 
genius,  and  when  in  England  was  concerned  in  erecting  float- 
ing mills  upon  the  Thames,  similar  to  those  used  in  France 
and  Germany.  Denny  is  a small  neat  man,  an  entire  contrast 
in  appearance  to  the  foregoing.  He  appears  to  be  about 
forty-five  years  of  age,  and  is  well  bespattered  with  gray  hairs. 
Though  a Massachusetts  man,  he  has  freed  his  conversation 
from  Yankeeisms,  and  speaks  with  as  much  facility  as  he 
writes.  He  is  polite  in  his  address,  attentive  to  the  etiquette 
of  society,  and  studious  to  suit  his  conversation  to  those 


271 


Journey  to  Washington. 

with  him,  as  well  as  to  elicit  the  sparks  that  might  otherwise 
remain  dormant — with  all  this  I confess  that  I did  not  hear 
those  brilliant  things  which  I expected  from  the  mouth  of  the 
editor  of  the  Portfolio.” 

If  any  person  in  1834  will  look  over  the  numbers  of  this 
popular  and  celebrated  journal,  as  published  in  Philadelphia 
in  1801,  he  must  be  astonished  that  a work  breathing  the  high- 
est degree  of  ultra-toryism,  attachment  and  servile  subservien- 
cy to  England,  and  admiration  of  her  political  institutions, 
with,  of  course,  bitter  enmity  to  all  that  is  fundamentally  Ame- 
rican, or  that  is  the  true  source  of  her  prosperity,  could  be  ex- 
tensively circulated  and  popular.  Its  literary  merit  is  great, 
but  the  feelings  of  a great  party  among  us  must  have  been 
such  as  are  now  incomprehensible. 

I copy  this  account  of  the  dinner  party  as  the  impression 
made  at  the  time.  I can  add,  from  memory,  that  this,  the  only 
bookseller’s  dinner  1 ever  partook  of,  was  not  very  interesting. 
I was  of  course  a cipher.  Brown,  who  when  tete-a-tete  with 
me  would  pour  forth  streams  of  copious  eloquence  by  the 
hour,  was  here  as  silent  as  myself. 

I painted  some  miniatures,  and  early  in  January  1806,  pro- 
ceeded to  Baltimore  with  funds  undiminished. 

Groomrich, elsewhere  mentioned,  wras  painting  atBaltimore, 
and  beside  his  own  landscapes  showed  me  some  clever  pictures 
to  which  he  had  affixed  great  names.  I now  first  heard  the 
name  of  Guy,  of  Baltimore. 

T put  up  at  the  Fountain  Hotel,  and  found  employment  for 
some  w^eeks.  I at  length  reached  the  great  city,  then  rather  a 
desolate  place,  crude  and  unfinished.  Here  I found  many 
of  my  friends  as  members  of  congress,  and  among  them 
Samuel  L.  Mitchill,  with  whom  I now  rambled  on  the  banks 
of  the  Potomac  as  we  had  done  on  those  of  the  Thames,  and 
with  undiminished  good  will.  I settled  my  business  with 
Mr.  Gallatin,  who  instructed  me  in  the  measures  necessary  to 
be  taken  with  the  district  attorney  of  New-Jersey,  and  put  me 
at  rest  respecting  the  debt  of  the  late  marshal.  I was  intro- 
duced to  Mr.  Jefferson  by  Mitchill,  and  copied  in  miniature 
his  portrait  by  Stuart,  lent  me  by  Mrs.  Madison. 

The  good  old  Vice-President,  George  Clinton,  received  me 
as  an  old  acquaintance,  but  I saw  little  of  public  men.  Among 
the  old  friends  I saw  at  Washington,  I must  not  omit  Joel 
Barlow  and  his  amiable  wife  ; and  of  those  from  whom  I re- 
ceived civilities,  Mr.  Thornton  of  the  patent  office. 

I passed  some  days  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Love,  at  George- 
town, who  insisted  on  my  staying  with  him  while  painting  his 
wife’s  miniature.  I left  Washington  late  in  March,  and  stop- 


272  The  theatre — Painting  and  authorship . 

ped  for  a short  time  with  my  friend  Brown  and  his  amiable 
wife  on  my  return.  I again  visited  them  about  the  beginning 
of  April,  and  passed  three  weeks  with  them  : I then  returned  to 
my  family  at  Perth  Amboy,  and  devoted  myself  to  painting 
and  gardening. 

My  mother’s  house  stood  on  the  main  street  of  the  town, 
and  an  acre  lot  extended  westward  to  a street  without  houses. 
During  my  supposed  prosperity  as  lessee  of  the  New-York 
theatre,  I had  planted  this  garden  with  choice  fruit,  besides 
setting  out  orchards  and  otherwise  improving  a farm  on  the 
rising  ground  about  a mile  from  the  city,  where  I had  planned 
and  enjoyed  an  air-castle ; the  latter  had  passed  away,  and  I 
was  contentedly  working  in  my  mother’s  garden,  when  a gen- 
tleman approached  from  the  house,  whom  1 soon  recognised 
as  my  friend  T.  A.  Cooper.  He  rapidly  informed  me  that  he 
had  taken  the  New-York  theatre  on  conditions  of  a rebuilding 
of  the  interior — that  he  was  on  his  way  to  Philadelphia  to 
make  engagements — that  he  wished  me  to  assist  him  as  gene- 
ral superintendant  of  his  theatrical  concerns  and  manager  in 
his  absence- — made  me  such  an  offer  as  to  yearly  emolument, 
to  commence  that  day,  as  I could  not  reject,  and  proposed 
getting  into  a carriage  in  waiting  and  proceeding  to  Philadel- 
phia immediately.  It  did  not  take  long  to  change  dress,  dine 
or  lunch,  and  1 was  no  longer  a painter,  but  all  my  mind  ab- 
sorbed in  theatrical  affairs. 

My  situation  in  the  theatre  became  disagreeable,  not  owing 
to  any  acts  of  Mr.  Cooper,  and  in  the  year  1812,  after  a sacri- 
fice of  another  six  years,  I relinquished  it  and  again  com- 
menced miniature-painter,  taking  an  apartment  in  Tryon-row, 
which  had  been  occupied  by  Bass  Otis.  My  family  had  re- 
mained at  Perth  Amboj'  as  their  permanent  residence ; my 
success  as  a miniature-painter  at  this  time  determined  me  to 
remove  them  to  New-York,  and  I took  a house  in  Fulton- 
street  in  despite  of  the  war  then  existing  with  Great  Britain. 
My  business  declined  and  I commenced  author  again,  by  pub- 
lishing the  Memoirs  of  George  Frederick  Cooke,  and  com- 
mencing a magazine  under  the  title  of  “ The  Recorder,”  in 
both  works  being  assisted  by  my  son.  I was  applied  to  by 
Mr.  Elijah  Brown  to  write  a biography  of  my  friend  C.  B. 
Brown,  which  I did,  encumbered  by  a selection  made  by  Paul 
Allen,  of  Baltimore,  which  being  in  part  printed  was  to  be 
retained,  by  agreement. 

My  magazine  was  a source  of  trouble  and  was  running  me 
in  debt.  I took  my  painting  materials  and  proceeded  to  Bos- 
ton with  a double  view  of  aiding  the  periodical,  and  gaining 


Visit  to  Boston  18 [3. 


273 


something  by  my  pencil.  I stopped  a few  days  with  my  bro- 
thers-in-law,  president  Dwight  and  Wm.  W.  Woolsey  at  New- 
Haven,  and  painted  some  miniatures  there  and  at  Hartford, 
where  1 passed  some  very  pleasant  days  in  August  with  my 
friends  Theodore  Dwight,  Doctor  Cogswell  and  Mr.  Scar- 
borough. 1 visited  my  excellent  friend  Richard  Alsop,  at 
Middleton,  and  took  from  him  letters  to  Benjamin  Pollard 
and  F.  J.  Oliver  of  Boston,  the  son-in-law  of  Mr.  Alsop. 
This  gentleman’s  acquaintance  ripened  into  a friendship  to 
me  invaluable.  On  my  way  to  Boston  1 passed  a fewT  days  at 
Providence,  but  finding  no  employment  for  an  itinerant  pain- 
ter, 1 pushed  on  and  arrived  at  the  Exchange  Coffee-house 
in  the  evening  of  August  26th.  The  next  day  I took  up  my 
abode  at  the  boarding-house  of  Mrs.  Brown  in  State-street, 
with  whom,  at  the  same  house,  I had  boarded  at  three  differ- 
ent periods,  twenty-two  years,  seventeen  years,  and  seven 
years  before  the  present  visit.  On  the  28th  1 had  a portrait 
begun  (miniature,)  and  in  the  afternoon  a second  sitting. 

In  the  society  of  Mr.  Oliver,  his  friends  and  relatives,  my 
leisure  hours  were  happily  passed.  Stuart  at  this  time  had 
his  family  with  him  and  lived  at  Roxbury,  where  I visited  him 
on  the  2d  of  September,  and  was  received  cordially.  My 
journal  says,  “ he  has  begun  the  full-length  of  Hull  for  our 
corporation,  and  is  to  begin  Bainbridge  soon.  He  says  De- 
catur and  Lawrence  are  not  bespoke  of  him.”  The  Corpora- 
tion of  New-York  have  none  of  his  pictures. 

I showed  him  the  miniatures  I had  painted  at  New-Haven, 
and  he  made  his  remarks  freely,  but  strongly  urged  me  to 
paint  in  oil.  I took  his  advice  on  my  return  to  New-York. 

Finding  no  encouragement  for  the  “Recorder,”  I wrote  to 
my  son  to  offer  the  work  and  subscribers  to  James  Eastburn, 
of  New-Yrork,  but  he  declined  and  the  magazine  failed. 

On  the  25th  of  October,  (having  until  that  time  found  em- 
ployment in  painting  miniatures,  and  delightful  society,  princi- 
pally with  F.  J.  Oliver,  W.  Heard  and  B.  Pollard  and  their 
connections,)  I took  my  friend  Alsop’s  wife  under  my  charge 
and  returned  to  Hartford. 

While  I was  in  Boston  J received  letters  from  P.  Irving, 
Esq.,  informing  me  that  he  had  agreed  with  Miller  of  London 
to  publish  my  life  of  Cooke  and  divide  the  profit  ; but  before 
I left  it,  I learned  that  John  Howard  Payne,  having  found  a 
copy  in  a ship  from  New-York,  with  a view  to  serve  me,  sold 
it  to  Colbourne,  who  got  out  an  edition  before,  (or  on  the 
same  day)  with  Miller’s,  and  the  two  publishers  agreed  to 
make  the  best  for  themselves,  and  sink  me. 

35 


274  A military  anointment. 

After  my  return  home  I commenced  painting  portraits  in  oil, 
and  with  a success  beyond  my  expectation.  In  the  year  1814, 
when  sitting  at  my  esel,  1 heard  a knock  at  my  street-door 
and  opened  it  myself,  when,  to  my  surprise,  I saw  an  orderly- 
sergeant,  who  delivered  a message  from  the  commander-in- 
chief of  the  third  military  district,  requesting  to  see  Mr.  Dun- 
lap immediately.  The  surprise  of  a man  who  had  had  no 
connection  with  the  political  affairs  of  the  times  (except  expres- 
sing his  opinion  and  giving  his  vote,  or  with  the  military  ex- 
cept lamenting  disasters  and  rejoicing  in  the  triumphs  of  the 
army  and  navy,)  may  be  imagined  at  receiving  such  a mes- 
sage ; and  curiosity  alone  was  sufficient  to  carry  me  in  a short 
time  to  head-quarters.  Daniel  D.  Tompkins  was  then  com- 
mander of  the  district  for  the  United  States.  I had  seen  him  as 
a judge,  and  as  governor  of  the  state,  but  had  no  acquaintance 
with  him,  further  than  returning  a salute  from  him  in  public 
which  showed  that  he  knew  me,  although  I had  never  exchanged 
words  with  him.  I found  him  surrounded  by  officers  and  ap- 
plicants, at  a table  covered  with  papers.  He  broke  off  and 
saluted  me  with  the  smile  of  an  old  friend.  “ Mr.  Dunlap,  I 
have  to  apologize  for  not  thinking  of  you  sooner,  if  it  will 
suit  you  to  enter  the  service,  the  best  thing  I can  now  offer 
you  is  the  office  of  Assistant  paymaster-general  of  the  militia 
of  the  state,  in  the  service  of  the  United  States  ; walk  into  the 
next  room  and  the  paymaster-general”  (to  whom  he  then  in- 
troduced me,)  u will  explain  the  duties,  pay  and  emoluments, 
and  I shall  be  happy  if  the  office  suits  you.”  After  a short  in- 
terview with  the  paymaster-general,  in  which  he  told  me  what 
steps  must  be  taken  previous  to  exercising  and  receiving  the 
emoluments  of  office,  I returned  through  the  room  in  which 
Tompkins  still  was,  thanked  him,  accepted  the  office  and  re- 
tired. Washington  Irving  was  then  one  of  the  Commander- 
in-chiefs  aids,  and  of  course,  a lieutenant-colonel,  and  I sus- 
pect that  it  was  in  consequence  of  his  mentioning  me  to  Tomp- 
kins that  I received  this  military  appointment.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  the  manner  of  the  General  was  in  the  highest  degree 
friendly,  and  his  friendship  continued  till  death. 

I was  thus  again  removed  from  pencil  and  palette,  and  until 
1816,  or  rather  1817,  for  it  was  late  in  the  fall  of  16  before 
my  office  expired,  I was  engaged  in  affairs  foreign  to  the  Arts 
of  Design.  So  that  at  the  age  of  fifty-one  I became  perma- 
nently a painter. 

Although  in  a history  of  the  Arts  of  Design  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  depict  the  scenes  and  characters  I met  with  while 
paying  off  militia  from  Montauk  point  to  Lake  Erie,  yet  as 


275 


Visit  to  Niagara. 

connected  with  my  life  in  character  of  an  artist,  I ought  to 
mention  that  I practised  more  than  ever  1 had  done  before 
sketching  scenes  from  nature  in  water-colours,  and  making 
faithful  portraits  of  places  which  appeared  worthy  of  my 
attention.  A habit  of  early  rising  and  pedestrian  exercise 
gave  me  time  and  opportunity  to  visit  and  make  drawings  of 
spots  within  several  miles  of  the  place  at  which  I was  to  labour 
in  my  vocation  of  paymaster  during  the  remainder  of  the  day. 
My  last  payments  were  made  amidst  the  ruins  of  Buffalo, 
and  being  free  for  a time,  I left  my  trunk  at  the  only  tavern 
in  the  place,  and  that  not  half  built,  and  with  my  portfolio 
under  my  left  arm,  containing  a change  of  linen  with  materials 
for  drawing,  and  my  artist’s  three-legged  stool,  resembling  a 
club,  in  my  right  hand,  I departed  from  Buffalo  to  visit  Fort 
Erie  and  all  the  wonders  of  the  Niagara  as  a pedestrian. 

The  artist’s  portable  seat  consists  of  three  pieces  of  tough 
wood,  the  smaller  ends  pointed  with  iron  and  the  larger  ends 
bound  together  by  a strong  iron  ring,  which,  when  slipped 
down,  permits  the  smaller  ends  to  expand  and  form  legs  to 
the  seat  and  the  thicker  likewise  to  expand  for  the  reception  of  a 
small  piece  of  sail-cloth  with  loops,  which  is  carried  in  the 
pocket ; this  forms  the  seat,  and  secures  the  whole,  making  a 
three-legged  stool.  When  not  in  use  as  such,  the  ring  keeps 
the  three  sticks  firmly  together  as  a short  heavy  club,  in  which 
state,  as  it  was  generally  seen,  it  was  an  object  of  curiosity 
and  speculation  which  afforded  me  no  little  amusement. 
Crossing  at  Black-rock  I visited  the  ruins  of  Fort  Erie,  and 
then  at  my  leisure  walked  towards  the  Falls.  I took  shelter 
from  rain  at  a miserable  tavern,  where  I passed  the  night, 
during  part  of  which  a set  of  ruffians  poured  out  their  vitupe- 
rations on  Yankees,  as  they  stimulated  their  passions  with 
whiskey.  The  next  day,  after  stopping  to  make  many 
sketches,  I reached  the  cottage  of  Forsyth,  near  the  great 
cataract.  I remained  four  days  at  the  Falls,  and  made  draw- 
ings which  I carefully  coloured  in  the  open  air,  on  the  banks 
and  on  the  table-rock.  This  wonder  of  nature  is  an  exhaust- 
ed theme.  I will  only  remark  that  I saw  it  in  1815,  and 
before  the  artificial  additions  and  conveniencies  were  added, 
which  now  exist. 

I walked  down  the  Canada  side  of  the  Niagara  and  return- 
ed on  the  American  side,  all  then  either  in  ruins  or  rising 
from  the  effects  of  the  war.  Through  rain  and  mud  I reached 
Buffalo,  and  found  the  tavern  so  occupied  by  Governor 
Tompkins  and  his  suite,  that  my  trunk  was  deposited  within  the 
liquor  bar,  and  there  alone,  surrounded  by  boors,  1 found  a 


276  Indians  and  progress  of  civilization. 

place  to  change  my  clothes.  While  in  the  act,  Tompkins, 
hearing  I was  in  the  house,  left  the  dinner-table  to  seek  me, 
and  found  me  putting  on  my  shirt.  I slept  that  night  amidst 
shavings  and  fleas  in  an  unfinished  garret,  and  next  day  de- 
parted for  home. 

I was,  as  Doctor  Franklia  has  expressed  it,  at  this  time, 
“ a young  man  of  fifty.”  I was  young  and  active  in  reality, 
and  capable  of  as  much  fatigue  as  at  the  age  of  thirty.  I had 
never  been  in  the  western  portion  of  the  state  of  New-York  ; 
and  although  J knew  that  tow  ns  and  villages  had  succeeded  to 
the  forest  and  the  wigwam,  when  I actually  saw  the  progress 
of  civilization,  the  scenes  of  activity  and  prosperity,  of  culti- 
vation, fertility  and  riches,  day  after  day  a succession  of  sur- 
prises and  of  pleasures  heretofore  unknown,  filled  my  mind 
with  delight.  The  remaining  tribes  of  the  Six  Nations  were 
objects  of  curiosity  to  me  ; and  I had  frequent  intercourse  with 
Webster  and  Parish,  the  Indian  interpreters,  men  yet  in  the 
prime  of  life,  who,  when  children,  had  been  carried  off  by 
the  savages,  adopted  by  them,  and  as  young  men,  had  roamed 
with  them  through  the  wilderness  which  I was  now  traversing 
as  a paradise. 

I saw  a great  deal  of  the  population  of  the  state,  from  the 
Dutch  inhabitants  on  the  Mohawk,  to  the  New  England  men 
further  west  from  Utica  to  Buffalo,  but  I saw  them  under 
circumstances  which  exhibited  them  to  disadvantage.  They 
congregated  at  the  paymaster’s  call,  and  on  receiving  at  a 
public  house  small  sums  of  money  (for  most  of  them  had  only 
been  out  a short  time)  they  were  too  much  disposed  to  spend 
it  in  drunkenness,  and  in  many  instances  quarrelling  and 
blows  followed.  I could  communicate  many  facts  respecting 
the  militia,  and  much  that  interested  me  relative  to  the  remains 
of  the  Iroquois,  but  that  the  subjects  would  be  out  of  place 
in  this  work,  and  other  subjects  demand  the  space. 

In  1816  l was  travelling  under  orders  on  Long  Island,  and 
then  north  to  St.  Regis,  on  the  St.  Lawrence.  My  mission  to 
St.  Regis  was  on  business  with  that  tribe  of  Indians  ; and  if  I 
might  in  this  memoir  give  my  experience  of  this  people  at  this 
time,  and  in  1815  when  1 visited  the  Onandagas,  with  Webster 
the  interpreter,  (a  white  man,  stolen  when  a child  and  edu- 
cated as  an  Indian.)  I could  state  some  facts  curious  and 
elucidative  of  the  character  of  a race  fast  passing  aw  ay. 

In  the  autumn  I returned  home  and  resumed  the  profession 
of  painter,  much  less  qualified  for  it  than  in  1814,  for  in 
that  year  I painted  one  of  my  best  portraits,  which  is  now 
with  the  widow  of  the  subject,  (J.  J.  Holland,  Esq.)  at  Vice 


27  7 


Resume  painting. 

Chancellor  McCoun’s,  for  whom  I have  in  much  later  days 
painted  a child’s  picture,  on  which  I would  willingly  rest  my 
reputation  as  an  artist.  In  a sick  chamber,  and  in  aiding  to 
re-establish  what  is  called  the  American  Academy  of  Fine 
Arts,  many  months  now  passed  away.  I was  elected  a 
director  and  keeper,  had  a salary  of  200  dollars  a year  and 
rooms  for  painting  assigned  to  me,  and  painted  in  the  year 
1817  and  1818  many  portraits. 

My  business  in  New-York  failing  in  October  1819,  I deter- 
mined to  try  Virginia  for  the  winter,  and  leaving  a provision 
with  my  family,  took  150  dollars  with  me  and  letters  to 
Richmond. 

I dined  with  my  friend  T.  A.  Cooper,  at  his  house  at 
Bristol,  and  took  letters  from  him  to  Virginia  and  north 
Carolina.  At  Philadelphia  I stopped  a day  or  two  with 
Sully,  who  always  instructs  me.  He  was,  at  this  time,  paint- 
ing his  great  picture  of  the  crossing  of  the  Delaware,  and 
occupied  the  Philosophical  Hall  adjoining  the  state  house. 
He  told  me  that  he  had  not  had  a portrait  to  paint  for  Phila- 
delphia since  May  last.  Such  are  the  fluctuations  in  an 
artist’s  fortunes.  In  conjunction  with  a frame-maker,  Mr. 
Earle,  he  had  built  and  opened  an  exhibition  gallery,  with 
little  profit.  Among  the  pictures  were  Leslie’s  Death  of 
Rutland,  Ward’s  Anaconda,  Horse  and  Indian,  and  a land- 
scape  by  Gainsborough.  S.  F.  B.  Morse  was  at  this  time 
painting  oil  portraits  successfully  at  Charleston,  S.  C.  and  C. 
Fraser,  miniatures.  Trott  was  in  Philadelphia  at  this  time, 
but  doing  nothing,  and  was  about  visiting  Savannah  and 
Charleston.  \ 

I now,  for  the  first  time,  saw  Mr.  West’s  picture  of  “ Heal- 
ing  in  the  Temple.”  My  first  sensation  was  disappointment. 
My  admiration  followed  ; but  the  principal  figure  then  and 
since,  appeared  very  deficient.  I saw  Allston’s  “ Dead  man 
revived,”  at  the  Pennsylvania  Academy,  and  could  not  but 
prefer  much  of  it  to  the  “ Healing  in  the  Temple.” 

Oct.  20th. — Embark  for  Newcastle — cross  to  Frenchtown, 
and  again  embark  in  a steam-boat  for  Baltimore  and  arrive  at 
Baltimore  before  day-light  next  morning.  At  7 A.  M.  em- 
barked in  steam-boat  for  Norfolk,  touched  at  Annapolis  and 
went  ashore,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  22d  landed  at  Norfolk. 

1 w as  now  in  a new  region,  and  all  appeared  strange  to  me. 
The  immense  numbers  of  negroes  was  very  striking.  After 
a time  Norfolk  appeared  to  me,  in  many  points,  to  resemble 
the  place  of  my  birth  at  the  time  of  my  childhood — no  doubt 
the  black  slave-servants  made  a principal  feature  in  this  like- 


278 


Norfolk . 


ness ; but  the  rosfds  and  walks,  the  want  of  cultivation  in  the 
surrounding  country,  and  the  hospitable  manners  of  the  inha- 
bitants added  to  the  resemblance.  Norfolk  had  been  long 
on  the  decline,  and  Richmond  had  the  ascendant.  I knew  no 
one  in  the  place  and  had  not  brought  a letter.  1 took  up  my 
quarters  at  the  steam-boat  hotel,  intending  to  proceed  imme- 
diately up  James  River;  but  my  landlord,  Matthew  Glenn, 
finding  my  plans  and  intentions  from  conversation  with  me, 
engaged  me  to  paint  two  portraits  of  his  daughters  ; his  own 
portrait  followed,  and  I remained  in  Norfolk  fully  employed 
until  the  last  of  April  1820. 

1 soon  found  some  acquaintance  here  from  the  north.  Mr. 
Crawley  was  settled  here  as  a drawing-master  and  portrait- 
painter.  I found  myself  at  home  in  Norfolk,  and  my  ease  as 
well  as  profit  was  most  materially  owing  "to  Thomas  William- 
son, Esq.,  cashier  of  the  branch  bank  of  Virginia,  whose 
hospitable  house  was  literally  a home,  though  I continued  to 
board  at  my  hotel.  Mr.  Williamson  has  remained  steadily  to 
this  day  (1834)  my  firm  and  beloved  friend. 

When  it  was  evident  that  1 should  be  from  home  the  winter, 
I wrote  to  Alexander  Robertson,  and  enclosed  my  resignation 
as  keeper  of  the  American  Academy.  He  was  elected  keep- 
er and  secretary,  without  salary.  Mr.  Trumbull  had  procured 
a law  that  the  keeper  should  never  be  chosen  from  the  directory. 
Mr.  Joshua  Shaw,  landscape-painter,  passed  a few  days  at 
Norfolk.  My  reading  this  winter,  1819-20,  was  not  of  much 
profit,  except  diligent  study  of  Adam  Clark’s  edition  of  the 
Bible  and  notes. 

On  the  24th  of  April  1820, 1 left  Norfolk  on  my  way  home, 
having  promised  to  return  the  next  winter.  If  1 were  to  name 
those  from  whom  I had  received  attention  and  hospitality,  I 
should  include  all  the  enlightened  part  of  the  population. 

At  Baltimore,  on  my  homeward  journey,  1 found  three  por- 
trait-painters. Rembrandt  Peale,  who  was  living  there,  and 
had  a museum  and  gallery— -Sully  and  Eickholtz  visiters. 
The  latter  painting-good  hard  likenesses  at  thirty  dollars  the 
head,  had  most  of  the  business.  1 found  Peale  much  inferior 
to  my  preconceived  opinion  of  him,  and  far  below  Sully  in 
merit. 

The  27th  April,  1820,  I passed  in  Philadelphia  : visited 
West’s  picture  again,  and  Allston’s,  and  saw  no  reason  to 
change  the  opinion  1 had  formed  at  my  last  visit.  On  the 
28th  I arrived  at  home,  and  found  my  family  well.  I was  now 
an  itinerant  portrait  painter.  In  New  York  little  or  nothing 


Montreal. 


279 


to  do.  I had  received  a handsome  sum  of  money  at  Norfolk  ; 
but  my  expenses,  and  my  family  expenses  at  home,  soon  ren- 
dered it  necessary  to  look  out  for  more  ; and  I determined  to 
try  Lower  Canada,  (new  ground  to  me)  and  return  in  time  to 
take  my  wife  to  Norfolk  in  the  autumn,  where  Williamson  w as 
to  have  a painting  room  built  for  me.  Accordingly,  in  the 
afternoon  of  August  9th,  1820,  1 proceeded  by  steam  to  Alba- 
ny, and  by  stage  to  Lake  Champlain.  Passed  the  lake,  and 
on  landing,  on  the  13th,  at  St.  John’s,  found  myself  in  a foreign 
country  ; as  we  rode  on  to  La  Prairie  it  being  Sunday,  we 
met  the  French  peasants  coming  from  church  in  the  costume 
of  Normandy,  as  their  fathers  left  it. 

At  Montreal  I found  employment  until  the  9th  of  October, 
when  I judged  it  best  to  seek  home;  but  curiosity,  the  desire 
to  see  Quebec,  and  visit  the  plains  of  Abraham,  where  my 
father  fought  by  the  side  of  Wolfe — to  see  those  places  which 
had  been  made  so  familiar  to  me  in  infancy,  when,  sitting  on 
his  knee  he  told  me  of  battles  on  the  ice  and  marches  with 
snow  shoes,  and  all  the  stirring  events  of  war,  so  fascinating 
to  the  child  and  so  repulsive  to  the  “ thinking,  understanding 
man.” 

It  w'ould  be  superfluous  to  describe  a place  so  well  known 
and  oft  visited  as  Montreal  ; but  I should  do  injustice  to  my 
readers,  and  to  my  friends  found  or  made  there,  if  I did  not 
copy  some  passages  from  my  journal.  I had  taken  a letter 
from  Dr.  Mitchill,  which  introduced  me  to  Dr.  Paine,  now 
a practitioner  in  New  York,  but  then  a young  physician  in  this 
foreign  country:  through  him  I had  the  kind  offices  of  Mr. 
Cunningham,  bookseller  and  librarian,  and  the  society  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Barrett.  u Walk  with  Dr.  Paine  round  the  moun- 
tain by  the  north,  and  over  part  of  it,  my  friend  botanizing, 
while  I enjoyed  his  conversation  and  the  beautiful  scenery. — 
This  walk  reminded  me  of  days  long  past,  when  I studied 
botany,  and  traversed  the  fields  and  rocks  of  Manhattan  with 
Dr.  E.  H.  Smith. 

“ The  whole  island  of  Montreal  is  a plain,  except  this  hill, 
w'hich  gives  it  name.  It  is  all  capable  of  the  highest  cultiva- 
tion, and  a great  part  is  in  that  state  : farms,  orchards,  villa- 
ges, and  glittering  spires,  appear  in  every  direction.  We 
took  shrub  and  water,  with  cakes  and  bread,  at  a small  Cana- 
dian public-house  ; and  were  served  by  a neat,  polite,  and 
pretty  landlady.”  As  a contrast  to  this  neat  and  comfortable 
aubergc , F mention  one  more  truly  Canadian.  Being  out  on 
a pedestrian  excursion,  with  a companion,  “ after  a walk  of 
ten  miles  we  sought  food  and  refreshment  at  a tavern  of  lar- 


230 


A tavern  dinner. 


ger  size  and  more  prepossessing  appearance  than  common. 
The  keeper  agreed  to  give  us  (having  nothing  else)  some  bread, 
eggs,  and  brandy.  The  brandy  came  first,  and  proved  to  be 
miserable  rum.  The  landlady  brought  in  six  eggs  in  a soup- 
plate  and  one  large  pewter  spoon  : she  then  went  out  and 
brought  in  part  of  a loaf  of  sour  brown  bread  grasped  in  one 
hand  and  a saucer  with  salt  in  the  other,  and  with  the  spoon 
she  ground  the  salt  from  coarse  to  fine  in  the  saucer.  We 
saw  before  us  our  dinner,  its  condiments,  and  its  furniture  : 
no  plates,  no  knives  ; six  eggs  to  be  managed  as  we  could 
with  one  large  spoon.  Nothing  more  w'as  to  be  had  ; and, 
much  amused  by  the  specimen  of  Canadian  tavern  keeping, 
we  soon  dispatched  the  eggs,  and  departed  as  hungry  as  we 
came.  This  was  not  a hovel,  but  a good  looking  house,  with 
a large  sign,  several  apartments  decorated  with  pictures  of 
saints,  virgins,  and  abundance  of  crucifixes,  and  immediately 
opposite  the  village  church.” 

At  the  Mansion-house  hotel,  splendidly  kept  by  an  Eng- 
lishman, I became  acquainted  with  a very  intelligent  Scotch 
gentleman,  Mr.  Wm. Thomson,  attached  to  the  commissariat. 
—He  had  been  with  the  army  on  the  continent,  of  Europe,  was 
well  acquainted  with  books,  men,  and  pictures,  and  drew  cor- 
rectly himself.  He  favoured  me  with  the  reading  of  a journal 
kept  by  him  in  France  and  Holland,  with  many  excellent 
sketches.  To  him  I am  indebted  for  the  subjoined  memoran- 
dum of  the  prices  at  which  casts  from  the  Elgin  marbles  may 
lie  obtained  in  London.* 


* Casts  of  the  following  plasters,  from  the  Elgin  Marbles,  may  be  purchased 
in  London  for  the  prices  annexed. 

Large  Trunk,  unknown  (meaning  the  trunk  of  the  human  body)  £4  4 0 


2 small  Trunks,  bas  relief;  Temple  of  Victory  - - 0 5 0 

2 Arms  do.  from  Frieze  - - - - 0 5 0 

3 Horses’  Heads  from  do.  - - - - 0 7 6 

Part  of  large  Trunk,  supposed  to  be  Jupiter  - - - 3 3 0 

Fragment  of  Head  - - 050 

Female  Arm,  from  one  of  the  large  groups  - - - 0 10  0 

Bas  relief  of  Male  Trunk,  from  Frieze  * - - - 17  0 

Arm  of  Metops ----130 

Three  small  Fragments 030 

Bas  Relief  056 

Four  Bas  Reliefs  of  Frieze,  at  £l  10  - - - 10  0 0 

High  relief  Figure,  fighting  with  Centaur  - - - 7 7 0 

Large  Female  Arm 0 10  0 

Mask  of  Bacchus 050 

Four  Fragments,  from  high  relief  Metops  - - - 1 10  0 

Large  Female  Arm  - - - - - - - - 0 10  0 

Three  large  Bas  Relief  Friezes  of  Horsemen  - - - 12  12  0 

Young  Theseus,  from  high  relief 212  6 

Leg  of  Metops 070 

Bas  Relief  of  Frieze  110  0 

High  Relief  of  Centaur  - - - - - - 7 7 0 


281 


Norfolk  and  Montreal  compared. 

The  governor,  Lord  Dalhousie,  one  of  Wellington’s  gen- 
erals, with  his  aid,  visited  my  painting  room.  He  is  a plain 
gentlemanly  soldier.  He  spoke  of  himself  as  a stranger  in 
the  country;  and,  after  some  pleasant  chat,  said  he  should  be 
glad  to  see  me  at  Quebec,  and  I must  call  upon  him  ; adding, 
tl  but  I shall  not  be  there  until  the  end  of  the  month.”  The 
next  day  he  departed,  amidst  drums,  trumpets,  and  peals  of 
cannon,  to  visit  Upper  Canada. 

The  convents,  churches,  &c.  were  visited  of  course,  and  I 
by  invitation  breakfasted  with  Mr.  M’ Gil  vary  at  his  very  plea- 
sant house  on  the  road  to  La  Chine.  “ He  has  a fine  head  of 
himself  by  Stuart,  which  he  finds  fault  with,  because  the  dra- 
pery is  slighted,  and  a beautiful  portrait  of  his  brother  by 
Shee.” 

I find  the  following  comparison  between  Norfolk  and  Mon- 
treal in  my  journal.  “ They  have  two  similar  customs;  they 
sweep  their  chimneys  by  pulling  a rope  up  and  down  with 
brush-wood  attached  to  it — and  they  bring  their  Country  pro- 
duce to  market  in  one  horse-carts,  which  are  arranged  in  order 
on  the  market-square.  In  both  places  the  inhabitants  are 
supplied  with  water  by  carting  in  casks,  as  in  former  times  at 
New-York  ; but  hoW  different  are  the  two  places  in  many  re- 
spects : the  cold,  close,  cautious,  inhospitable  manners  of  the 
motley  and  jarring  population  here,  contrast  as  strongly  with 
the  free,  open,  warm-hearted  Virginians,  as  the  solid  prison 
like  hybernacles,  the  stone-houses,  with  their  deep  retiring 
windows,  and  doors,  and  iron  window-shutters  do,  with  the 
light  evef-open  habitations  of  the  children  of  the  south.  But 
then  here  is  no  slave  population  ! O,  what  a paradise  would 
Virginia  be,  if  it  had,  instead  of  its  negroes,  the  intelligent 
population  of  the  middle  states,  or  even  the  hardy  ignorant 
French  peasants  of  Canada,  for  in  Virginia  they  would  not 
remain  as  they  now  do,  French  peasants .” 


Fragment  of  Metops  070 

Bas  Relief  of  Horse’s  Head  - 070 

Two  small  Bas  Reliefs,  fro:m  Temple  of  Victory  - - 14  9’ 

Large  Arm,  supposed  to  be  of  Neptune  - - - 0 12  0 

Large  Figure  of  Neptune  - - - - - 10  10  0 

Dead  Figure,  from  high  relief  - - - - - - 2 12  6 

Large  piece  of  Breasts,  frojn  female  group  - - - 2 12  0 

Theseus  - - - - - 10  10  0 

Horses’  Head,  large  - 330 


Sterling  85  15  6 


Packing  cases  for  the  above  cost  £.30 


36 


282 


Quebec. 


I made  several  excursions  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Mon- 
treal, and  passed  one  day  at  Leney’s  cottage,  who,  giving  up 
his  profession  of  engraver,  was  cultivating  a farm  near  the 
banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  I was  hospitably  entertained  at 
La  Chine  by  Col.  Finlay  and  his  family.  On  Monday  the 
9th  of  October,  I embarked  in  the  steamboat  Telegraph  for 
Quebec.  After  a very  stormy  passage  down  the  river,  with 
torrents  of  rain,  which  form  water-falls  from  the  precipitous 
banks  of  the  river,  we  arrived  at  the  very  picturesque  and 
famous  city  of  Quebec.  I had  never  before  the  true  idea  of  a 
fortified  town,  and  this  is  a second  Gibraltar.  The  lofty  rock 
of  Cape  Diamond  frowning  on  the  lower  town  ; the  tiers  on 
tiers  of  guns  mounted  in  every  direction,  with  the  irregularity 
of  streets  as  you  mount  to  the  upper  town,  all  fortress  and  gar- 
nished with  cannon,  so  unlike  any  thing  I have  ever  seen, 
baffles  my  poor  talent  at  description.  The  river,  a magnificent 
sheet  of  water  lies  far  below,  and  above  all,  is  the  Castle,  and 
Government-house  on  Cape  Diamond.  I arrived  on  Wednes- 
day; on  Thursday  I saw  the  town,  and  walked  over  the  plains 
of  Abraham;  and  on  Friday,  a cold  day,  and  part  of  the  time 
snowing,  I walked  to  the  Falls  of  Montmorency,  made  sketches 
with  benumbed  fingers,  enjoyed  scenery  of  the  most  superb 
kind,  almost  atoning  for  starvation  from  cold  and  hunger,  (for 
I could  not  obtain  a piece  of  bread  that  I could  eat)  and  got 
back  to  the  hotel  at  Quebec  to  a dinner  and  the  warmth  of  a 
fire  that  reminded  me  of  my  distance  from  home. 

I remained  after  my  return  but  a few  days  at  Montreal,  and 
then  pressed  my  homeward  journey  ; arriving  on  the  24th  of 
October,  after  pleasant  travelling  with  summer-like  weather. 

Leaving  our  son  and  daughter  to  keep  house  in  New-York, 
myself  and  wife  proceeded  on  our  promised  visit  to  Norfolk  the 
1 3th  of  November,  1820.  We  passed  some  very  pleasant  days 
■with  the  family  of  Charles  Chauncey,  Esq.  of  Philadelphia — 
stopped  a day  at  Baltimore,  and  on  Tuesday  the  21st  ofNovem 
ber,  found  our  friend  Williamson  ready  to  conduct  us  from  the 
steamboat  to  his  hospitable  mansion  at  Norfolk. 

Previous  to  this  time  I had  painted  a great  many  portraits, 
and  (never  satisfied)  my  style  and  palette  were  ever  changing. 
I did  my  best  always,  but  much  depended  on  my  sitters.  The 
best  head  I had  painted  was  my  friend  John  Joseph  Holland, 
who  felt  and  sat  like  an  artist,  and  my  own  head  painted  with 
great  care  and  study  from  a mirror.  I had  likewise  painted 
since  resuming  the  oil  brush,  an  historic  or  scripture-piece  on 
a cloth  eight  feet  by  five.  The  subject  was  the  young  Saviour 
with  the  Doctors  in  the  Temple,  and  parts  of  this  were  good  ^ 


283 


Second  visit  to  Norfolk. 

the  boy’s  head  was  truly  fine*  This  picture  was  rolled  on  a 
cylinder  made  of  unseasoned  wood,  and  being  packed  up  was 
left  unopened  for  many  months — on  taking  it  from  the  packing- 
case,  it  fell  into  pieces  and  was  lost  entirely. 

After  staying  a few  days  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Williamson, 
we  removed  to  a boarding-house,  very  pleasantly  situated  in 
Granby-street,  but  I had  to  wait  some  days  before  my  new  rooms 
were  ready  for  me ; that  accomplished,  I put  up  my  pictures 
and  commenced  painting.  My  exhibition-room  contained 
sixty  pictures  of  my  own  painting;  the  principal  being  the  pic- 
ture above  mentioned.  I hired  a person  to  attend  it,  and  print- 
ed catalogues  in  due  form. 

This  winter  passed  pleasantly;  my  wife  owing  much  of  her 
enjoyment  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Williamson’s  attentions;  and  in 
the  latter  part  of  May  she  accompanied  Mrs.  Williamson  to 
their  country-seat  at  Ferryville,  near  the  shores  of  the  bay, 
and  on  the  banks  of  an  inlet,  where  I passed  many  days  in 
rambling,  and  in  fishing  excursions  with  my  friend. 

I painted  many  portraits  during  this  second  residence  in  Nor- 
folk, and  made  a sketch  36  inches  by  30,  as  a model  for  an 
intended  great  picture,  to  be  called  “ Christ  Rejected.”  This  I 
composed  according  to  the  printed  descriptions  of  Mr.  West’s 
picture  of  that  name.  I made  use  of  the  parts  of  figures  he 
had  published,  composing,  as  far  as  I could,  to  suit  them,  the 
principal  groups  and  figures.  The  following  is  an  extract 
from  my  scanty  journal,  dated  February  19,  1821. 

“ Monday. — A fine  clear  day.  i am  this  day  fifty-five  years 
of  age  ; this  is  the  second  birth  day  in  Norfolk  ; but  since  the 
last  what  a variety  of  scenes  have  1 passed  through  ! I yester- 
day answered  a letter  from  my  amiable  friend  Doctor  Paine, 
of  Montreal,  which  revived  the  events  of  last  fall,  and  may  per- 
haps lead  me  again  to  Canada.  But  in  all — thy  will  be  done, 
O God  ! And  may  I remember  that  if  I truly  wish  thy  w ill  to 
be  done,  1 shall  strive  to  do  thy  will  ; and  that  thy  will  is  truth 
and  love.” 

We  left  Norfolk  and  returned  home  the  last  of  June,  1821, 
taking:  with  us  Master  John  Williamson,  the  second  son  of  our 
friends.  To  paint  a great  picture,  now  occupied  all  my 
thoughts.  I purchased  of  my  friend  Sully  a cloth  18  feet  by 
12,  which  he  had  imported  from  England — but  where  to  put 
up  a canvas  of  that  size,  and  have  a proper  light  on  the  work  ? 
The  sailor’s  song  says — 

“ How  little  do  you  landsmen  know, 

What  we  poor  sailors  feel,”  &c. 


284 


A large  picture. 


And  the  painter  may  say  how  little  do  mankind  know  of,  or  care 
for,  the  difficulties  which  attend  the  poor  painter  in  his  progress. 
He  has  neither  money  nor  credit  to  procure  a proper  room  for  his 
work,  and  has  perhaps  to  show  his  picture  to  the  public  without 
having  seen  it  during  the  painting.  “ But  it  is  his  own  choice.” 
May  be  not.  He  is  striving  to  attract  notice,  that  he  may  gain 
bread  for  a family.  “ There  is  a pretty  good  effect  in  the 
picture — that’s  a good  figure,  he  stole  that  from  Correggio — 
why  didn’t  the  fellow,”  &tc.  &c.  This  is  all  to  be  expected, 
and  is  sure  to  meet  the  painter’s  work  when  exhibited  -;  but  it  is 
likewise  certain  that  a good  picture  will  be  duly  appreciated 
by  the  public,  and  meet  ils  reward  in  praise,  if  not  by  a pur- 
chaser. 

Not  being  able  to  put  up  my  canvas  in  a proper  place,  I 
raised  it  in  the  garret  of  the  house  [ occupied  in  Leonard-street, 
with  conflicting  lights  all  below  the  centre  of  the  cloth,  and 
thus  proceeded  with  my  work  through  a hot  summer,  some- 
times discouraged,  but  generally  pleased  to  see  effects  produc- 
ed, which  I had  thought  beyond  my  power.  In  November, 
I took  down  the  canvas,  and  packed  it  for  the  purpose  of 
transportation  to  Norfolk,  where  I purposed  to  pass  a third 
winter,  and  knew  I had  a better  place  than  my  garret  to  work 
on  the  picture,  as  well  as  better  prospect  of  lucrative  employ- 
ment while  finishing  it.  It  was  accordingly  shipped,  and  on  the 
22d  of  November  1821,  with  my  young  friend  John  Williamson, 
I embarked  again  for  Virginia  by  the  way  of  Philadelphia, 
At  Philadelphia  I saw  my  friend  Sully  and  family,  and  of 
course  his  beautiful  copy  of  the  Capuchin  Chapel — -West’s 
picture-r-the  pictures  of  the  Academy,  fee.  At  Baltimore,  I 
visited  Rembrandt  Peale’s  Museum  and  Gallery.  He  had  just 
finished  his  picture  of  “ A mother  attracting  her  infant  from  a 
precipice.”  It  did  not  please  me  as  a composition.  I think 
the  subject  better  for  the  page  than  the  canvas.  We  arrived 
on  the  27th, 

After  some  days  recreation  with  Williamson  at  Ferry ville, 
living  upon  the  best  oysters  and  hoe-cake  in  the  world,  I got 
up  my  18  by  12  cloth,  and  worked  assiduously  at  it  through 
the  winter,  except  at  intervals  when  employed  on  portraits  or 
otherwise.  I boarded  at  a new  hotel  kept  by  Major  Cooper; 
having  remained  with  my  friend  Williamson  until  January  8th, 
1822,  during  the  preparations  for  opening  the  new  house. 

I had  become  acquainted  at  Williamson’s  with  a very  fine 
young  man  of  the  name  of  Douthat,  who  had  married  a lovely 
woman,  and  was  settled  on  a fine  plantation  up  James  River, 
near  the  house  of  his  father-in-law  Mr.  Lewis,  the  proprietoi* 


Virginia  plantations. 


285 


of  Wyanoke,  famous  in  early  Virginia  history.  I had  promised 
Douthat  to  visit  Westover,  the  name  of  his  residence.  In 
the  beginning  of  February  Williamson  went  up  to  Douthat’s. 
On  the  11th  of  February  my  young  friend  John  Williamson 
called  to  show  me  a letter  from  his  father,  saying,  that  Mr. 
Douthat  was  much  disappointed  at  my  not  coming — had  pre- 
pared a room  for  me,  and  engaged  several  portraits  for  me  to 
paint ; thus  joining  profit  to  the  pleasure  of  visiting  the  hospi- 
table planters  of  James  River.  Williamson  pressed  my  coming 
up  immediately,  and  I made  my  arrangements  for  so  doing. 

On  the  15th  I went  up  the  river  in  a good  steamboat, 
passed  James  Island,  where  all  that  remains  of  the  old  James- 
town is  a ruined  belfry  of  a church  ; about  sun-set  passed 
Wyanoke,  where  the  English  made  their  second  attempt  at  set- 
tlement, and  after  dark,  arrived  opposite  Westover,  the  third 
place  attempted.  The  whites  chose  an  island,  and  two  Pres- 
que isles,  as  affording  easier  defence  against  the  savages. 
Douthat  came  off  in  his  boat,  and  escorted  me  to  his  splendid 
mansion.  I here  found  my  friends  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Williamson, 
and  the  warmest  welcome  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Douthat.  The 
next  day  we  proceeded  by  water  to  Wyanoke,  the  plantation 
of  Mr.  Lewis.  This  place,  so  well  known  in  our  early  history 
as  the  second  spot  selected  by  the  English  for  their  settlement, 
is  nearly  surrounded  by  the  waters  of  James  River.  At  the 
time  of  my  visit  it  formed  a model  for  a well  cultivated  Virginia 
plantation,  as  worked  by  slave  labour,  under  a wise  and  humane 
master.  1 have  remarked  in  my  journal,  that  “ I should  not 
have  known  Virginia  if  I had  not  come  up  James  River,”  for 
Norfolk  ; and  the  neighbourhood  is  by  nature  a part  of  North 
Carolina,  and  although  my  friend  Williamson’s  plantation  at 
Ferryville,  (once  the  site  of  a town,  with  a church  long  aban- 
doned, and  a Court-house  where  Patrick  Henry  was  heard, 
and  where  now  a part  of  the  plantation  negroes  reside)  al- 
though Ferryville  was  a source  of  delight  to  me  and  many 
more,  its  master’s  chief  occupation  being  in  Norfolk,  and  the 
soil  very  poor,  it  did  not  represent  the  seat  of  a Virginia  plan- 
ter. At  Wyanoke  all  was  in  high  cultivation  and  perfect 
order.  The  overseer  was  intelligent,  and  was  directed  by  the 
master.  The  house  servants,  though  occupying  a building 
separate  from  the  mansion,  as  is  the  case  on  the  plantations, 
and  even  in  many  instances  in  the  towns  of  Virginia,  were  or- 
derly and  fully  employed  in  the  duties  imposed  by  the  owner’s 
hospitality.  I had  lived  well  all  my  life,  (except  with  old 
Bobby  Davy  in  London,)  and  certainly  the  luxuries  of  Nor- 
folk, and  the  good  cheer  at  my  friend  Williamson’s  did  not 


286 


Wyanoke  and  Westover. 

mislead  me  in  my  estimate  of  the  living  at  Wyanoke  and 
Westover,  but  I could  not  avoid  looking  with  surprise  at  the 
well  covered  table,  especially  at  breakfast,  where  the  varieties 
of  hot  breads  of  the  finest  kind  exceeded  any  thing  I had  met 
with.  Indian-corn  bread  in  three  or  four  shapes,  all  excellent ; 
buck-wheat  cakes ; cakes  of  different  kinds  made  of  the  best 
wheat  flour  in  the  world,  and  loaf  bread  of  the  same,  all  hot 
and  all  as  perfect  in  the  cooking  as  the  material ; and  all  this 
as  accompaniment  to  the  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl,  and  the  usual 
liquid  beverage  of  the  breakfast  table. 

Westover,  the  third  station  selected  by  the  English  colo- 
nists, is  like  Wyanoke,  a presque  isle.  The  estate  had  been 
recently  purchased  by  Mr.  Robert  Douthat.  The  house  had 
originally  been  the  most  splendid  probably  on  the  river,  and 
was  still  a magnificent  mansion.  In  the  garden  is  a marble 
monumental  ornament,  with  sculptured  urns,  shields,  and  coats 
of  arms  ; and  an  inscription,  commemorating  the  Hon.  Wm. 
Ryrd,  former  owner  of  this  and  other  great  estates  in  Virginia. 
He  died  in  1744.  Having  been  educated  in  England,  he  en- 
joyed the  friendship  of  the  great  of  that  day,  and  was,  after 
his  return,  president  of  his  Majesty’s  council  for  the  colony. 
He  inherited  his  estates  from  his  father,  who  lies  buried,  with 
others  of  the  family,  in  a large  walled  cemetery  on  the  estate. 
The  son  of  the  president  of  the  council  was  likewise  educated 
in  England,  or  at  home ; is  said  to  have  been  an  accomplished 
gentleman,  one  consequence  of  his  home-bred  education  : ano- 
ther was,  that  he  became  famous  for  losing  10,000  guineas  oil 
one  cast  of  the  die ; and  the  result  is,  that  the  fourth  genera- 
tion are  in  comparative  poverty,  and  have  sold  the  estate  and 
palace  to  one  who  begins  a new  dynasty,  and  calls  America 
his  home. 

Discerning  men  have  expressed  astonishment  at  the  servile 
adulation  which  Americans  pay  to  the  customs  and  opinions 
of  England.  It  is  an  evil  w hich  has  been  planted  in  our  courts 
of  justice  ; but,  with  wigs  and  gowns,  is  giving  way  to  com- 
mon sense  and  the  democratic  principle  ; yet  it  shows  itself 
mischievously  even  in  our  legislative  councils,  although  our 
constitution  of  government  is  opposed  to  monarchy  and  aris- 
tocracy : but  is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  when  we  recollect  that 
men  yet  live  who  were  taught  in  infancy  to  reverence  the  king 
next  to  God,  and  to  obey  him  implicitly  and  “ all  in  authority 
under  him  and  that,  up  to  this  day,  we  look  to  England 
for  our  books,  and  fear  to  praise  (almost  to  read)  one  of  na- 
tive growth,  until  some  hireling  English  or  Scotch  reviewer 
has  stamped  it  with  the  seal  of  his  approbation  ? 


We  stover-house. 


287 


At  the  time  when  the  elder  Mr.  Byrd  built  his  palace  at 
Westover,  not  only  a man’s  opinions,  but  the  bricks  and  stone 
and  wood  work  of  an  American  gentleman’s  house  were  im- 
ported from  England  : and  if  the  colonists  had  not  resisted 
the  usurpations  of  the  Euglish  aristocracy,  we  might  at  this 
time  have  sent  our  cotton  and  wool,  our  leather  and  fur,  as 
well  as  our  thoughts  to  that  country,  to  be  worked  over  be- 
fore we  were  permitted  to  use  them. 

There  was  more  costly  magnificence  in  and  about  the  house 
at  Westover  than  I had  seen  any  where  in  our  country;  but 
all  had  become  dilapidated,  and  was  under  the  repairing 
hand  of  the  present  possessor.  The  wall  which  surrounded 
the  house  was  entered  through  gates  of  lofty  iron  rail-work  : 
the  brick  pillars  were  ornamemed  with  eagles,  globes,  vases, 
and  other  well-executed  sculptures,  all  brought  from  home . — 
The  house  is  large  and  heavy,  with  spacious  hall  and  stair- 
case. The  rooms  high  and  wainscotted,  from  the  floors  to 
the  richly  decorated  ceilings.  All  the  sculptured  work,  and, 
in  fact,  every  other  part,  if  well  wrought,  was,  at  that  time, 
necessarily  imported.  The  situation  of  the  house  was  well 
chosen  ; commanding  extensive  views  of  the  superb  river,  the 
opposite  shores,  and  the  surrounding  plantation.  The  build- 
ings on  the  Westover  estate,  beside  the  mansion-house,  con- 
sist of  fourteen  brick  houses,  and  several  framed  ones  of  w ood. 
The  dwelling  place  for  the  dead  has  been  judiciously  walled  in, 
at  a due  distance  from  that  of  the  living  who  are  to  rest  there, 
and  out  of  sight.  I visited  it  one  cold  morning,  and  copied 
some  of  the  inscriptions.  It  is  not  an  uninteresting  fact  to 
Americans,  that  the  first  husband  of  Mrs.  Washington  (Mr. 
Curtis,)  had  been  intended,  by  his  father,  as  the  husband  of 
one  of  this  Byrd  family;  Qol.  Byrd,  of  Westover,  being,  at 
that  time,  “ from  his  influence  and  vast  possessions,  almost 
a Count  Palatine  of  Virginia.” 

At  Wyanoke  was  a son  of  Chief  Justice  Marshall,  and  his 
wife,  a daughter  of  Mr.  Lewis,  with  occasionally  other  visiters. 
I remained  among  these  hospitable  and  excellent  people, 
sometimes  at  Douthat’s  and  sometimes  at  Lewis’s,  until  the 
7th  of  March,  and  painted  several  portraits.  On  that  day  I 
embarked  for  Richmond,  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  find 
General  Taylor,  of  Norfolk,  on  board,  who,  on  our  arrival, 
next  morning,  at  Richmond,  pointed  out  some  of  the  principal 
edifices.  1 then  rambled  over  the  city,  and  up  the  banks 
of  James’  river  to  the  canal,  from  whence  the  view  of  the  rap- 
ids, the  water,  and  the  town,  is  strikingly  beautiful.  I visited 
the  museum,  the  capitol,  and  examined  Houdon’s  statue  of 


288 


Richmond. 


Washington,  which  I did  not  and  could  not  admire.  Of  the 
artist  and  his  work  I shall  speak  hereafter.  I called  on  Mr. 
Peticolas,  and  introduced  myself  to  him.  Of  him  and  his 
paintings  hereafter.  I visited  some  ladies  I had  become  acquain- 
ted with  at  Norfolk,  and,  refusing  invitations,  dined  as  I had 
breakfasted,  at  a hotel.  Notwithstanding  all  the  agreeables 
at  the  hospitable  mansions  I had  come  from,  I felt  like  a pris- 
oner escaped  from  confinement.  It  was  not  so  with  me  at 
Williamson’s — he  made  me  at  home— -his  house  was  “ mine 
inn,”  and  he  paid  me  for  using  it. 

I visited  Bishop  Moore  without  seeing  him — and  the  church 
built  where  the  theatre  was  burned ; I saw  its  monument,  in- 
scribed with  the  names  of  forty-nine  women  and  twenty  men, 
who  perished  on  the  occasion.  My  visit  to  Richmond  was 
too  hurried  to  allow  of  describing  its  beauties,  and  most  read- 
ers will  be  glad  of  it.  On  Sunday,  the  10th  of  March,  I em- 
barked, and  arrived  late  at  night  at  Norfolk  ; seeing  nothing 
on  the  passage  that  excited  my  feelings,  except  a brig  loaded 
with  negroes  for  New  Orleans ! 

Sully’s  copy  of  the  Capuchin  Chapel  was  brought  to  Nor- 
folk, and  I did  my  duty  towards  it.  It  received  in  two  w7eeks  ex- 
hibition upwards  of  two  hundred  dollars.  I now  worked  assidu- 
ously at  my  “ Christ  Rejected,”  and  before  I left  Norfolk  exhi- 
bited it  in  what  I then  thought  a finished  state.  I printed  a de- 
scriptive pamphlet,  in  which  I pointed  out  all  the  figures  bor- 
rowed from  West.  During  its  exhibition  I painted  several  por- 
traits. I visited  my  old  friends  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Irwin,  at  Fort 
Monroe. 

It  is  hazardous  for  a man  to  visit  Virginia,  the  temptations 
to  indulging  appetite  are  so  great.  Yet  excess  is  as  seldom 
seen  at  Norfolk  as  at  the  northern  cities.  I must  mention  three 
temptations  peculiar  to  the  country  : toddy  just  before  dinner; 
and  in  summer  mint  juleps  before  breakfast,  the  fresh  mint 
spread  over  the  top  of  the  bowl,  and  the  ice  and  sugar  dis- 
guising the  fiery  poison ; and  last,  not  least,  egg-nog  in  the 
winter,  a Christmas  custom. 

On  the  3d  of  June,  1822,  I left  Norfolk,  I presume  for  the 
last  time,  though  it  is  as  a home  to  me.  I gave  Williamson 
a portrait  of  myself,  and  the  original  sketch  of  the  “ Christ 
Rejected,”  in  which,  as  I remember,  the  Magdalen  is  abomi- 
nably bad,  poor  thing!  and  I had  no  power  to  make  her  bet- 
ter. I engaged  a young  Irishman  of  the  name  of  Doherty, 
who  aspired  to  be  a painter,  to  take  charge  of  the  “ Christ 
Rejected,”  and  shipped  it  by  way  of  Baltimore  for  Philadel- 
phia, where  I had  engaged  Sully  and  Earle’s  gallery  at  ten 


Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  and  his  biographers. 

dollars  the  week.  My  other  pictures  I shipped  by  sea  to  New- 
York.  At  Baltimore  I saw  for  the  first  time  Gruin’s  very  fine 
picture  of  the  “ Descent  from  the  Cross,”  presented  to  the 
Roman  Cathedral  by  the  king  of  France.  At  Philadelphia 
I left  directions  for  Doherty  respecting  the  exhibition  of  my 
picture,  and  proceeded  home,  where  happily  I found  all  well. 
Of  works  of  art  I found  the  only  thing  new  to  be  pleased 
with,  Lawrence’s  great  full-length  of  West,  a perfect  likeness 
in  the  face,  but  far  too  large  and  tall  for  truth.  The  compo- 
sition perfect.  For  this  portrait,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  re- 
ceived from  a number  of  gentlemen  of  Mew-York  two  thousand 
dollars ; but  his  English  and  Scotch  biographers  make  a pre- 
sent of  it  from  this  great  and  generous  man  to  the  American 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  in  return  for  making  him  a member  of 
that  illustrious  body.  Such  is  biography.  Cunningham  adds, 
“ The  Academy  of  Florence,  having  heard  that  Lawrence  had 
painted  one  of  his  finest  portraits  as  a present  to  the  American 
Society,”  (here  the  biographer  stumbled  on  the  right  name, 

‘ society,’)  “ instantly  elected  him  a member  of  the  first  class ; 
but  Sir  Thomas,  probably  penetrating  the  motive  of  their  kind- 
ness, sent  nothing.”  This  motive,  assigned  to  the  Academy  of 
Florence,  is  probably  as  groundless  a fabrication  as  Sir  Tho- 
mas’s generosity  to  America.  We  are  glad  to  have  so  fine  a 
picture  of  our  great  countryman,  by  so  great  a painter  as  his 
successor  ; but  it  was  bargained  for,  the  price  fixed  by  the 
painter,  and  paid  for  by  those  who  subscribed  the  money. 
The  bills  and  receipts  are  vouchers  against  romance  in  the 
shape  of  biography. 

Rembrant  Peale  was  now  in  a large  house  in  Broadway,  at 
a rent  of  nine  hundred  dollars  ; this  lasted  one  year.  He  had 
been  in  New-York  from  1st  May,  and  had  begun  one  head. 
On  the  9th  of  June  I was  again  in  Philadelphia,  to  see  to  put- 
ting up  my  picture,  and  working  on  it  before  opening  it  for 
exhibition.  I could  see  its  faults  belter  than  at  Norfolk  ; but 
in  a good  light  and  room  I was  surprised  at  its  effect,  and  en- 
couraged by  seeing  that,  with  all  its  imperfections,  it  was  a 
powerful  picture,  with  some  good  parts,  far  beyond  my  expec- 
tations ; for  I knew  my  deficiencies  well — -better  than  any  one. 
As  Doherty  was  new  to  the  business  of  exhibiting  pictures,  ] 
remained  some  days,  amusing  myself  principally  by  walking 
on  the  banks  of  the  two  rivers  that  enrich  and  beautify  the 
city. 

I had  reason  to  be  gratified  by  the  impression  made  upon 
t-he  public,  and  the  surprise  it  excited  among  the  artists. 
Sully,  my  friend,  talked  with  me  of  its  faults,  and  how  to 


290 


Philadelphia  and  Boston. 

amend  them.  “ But  you  have  a precious  line  of  light  upon 
those  soldiers’  heads.”  “ Oh  !”  cried  Robinson,  an  English 
miniature  painter,  and  pretty  clever,  “ throw  shadow  over 
those  soldiers’  heads,  sir,  such  a light  destroys  that  part  of 
your  picture.”  For  my  own  part,  1 never  see  the  picture  with- 
out wondering,  that,  with  my  defective  drawing,  (and,  I may 
add,  colouring,)  I could,  produce  a painting  with  the  merit 
it  possesses.  I had,  after  taking  up  the  pencil  when  beyond 
the  middle  of  life,  tried  to  remedy  my  deficiencies  ; and  it  may 
be  an  argument  for  industry  and  determined  application,  that 
so  late  and  with  so  many  interruptions,  I should  have  suc- 
ceeded as  far  as  I have. 

I had  an  opportunity,  during  this  visit,  to  see  my  former 
friends,  the  mother  of  Charles  B.  Brown,  one  brother,  and 
the  widow  of  another.  His  widow  was  out,  and  I did  not  see 
her  while  in  the  place.  A Mr.  Street,  a young  man,  carried 
me  to  see  his  pictures,  and  seemed  delighted  with  them, 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Visit  to  Boston— Journey  to  Portland  and  return  home— Pass  the  summer  of  1823 
at  Utica — The  Lunch — Exhibit  my  picture  of  “ Christ  Rejected”  in  New -York 
with  success A winter  visit  to  Washington,  D.  C.— Paint  more  large  pic- 

tures— Albany — Trott  and  Tisdale — Journey  to  Buffalo — Letter  from  G.  C.  Ver- 
. planck— Contrasted  modes  of  treatment  experienced  by  my  agents  when  exhi- 
biting my  pictures-^Picture  of  Calvary*-- History  of  the  American  Theatre — 
Visit  to  Vermont — Second  visit  to  Vermont — Illness— Doctor  Woodward — 
Publish  my  History  of  American  Theatre— Receive  a high  compliment  in  a 
benefit  at  the  theatre  I once  conducted,  got  up  by  my  fellow-citizens. 

On  the  22d  of  June  1 sent  my  picture  by  sea,  Doherty 
attending  it,  to  Boston,  having  engaged  a very  fine  room  for 
its  exhibition,  and  I returned  home,  little  the  better  as  yet  in 
cash  by  my  experiment.  I again  visited  Boston,  and  in  July, 
1822,  I put  up  my  picture  in  Doggett’s  great  room,  a noble 
place,  soon  afterward  appropriated  to  other  purposes  ; and 
although  I had  my  vanity  gratified,  I experienced  that  very 
warm  weather  is  unpropitious  to  exhibitions.  My  old  friend 
Stuart  seemed  surprised  at  the  effort  I had  made,  and  pointed 
out  some  faults — Heaven  knows  there  were  enough  of  them. 
Jarvis  and  his  pupil  Henry  Inman  came  to  Boston  to  seek 
employment,  but  did  little.  Henry’s  beautiful  little  water- 
coloured  likenesses  were  a source  of  some  profit.  Jarvis,  in 
a very  friendly  way,  pointed  out  an  error  in  the  neck  and  head 
of  the  Magdalen,  and  observed,  “ Henry  noticed  it.”  I sub- 
sequently endeavoured  to  remedy  the  defect.  In  Mr.  John 


291 


Success  of  my  first  large  picture. 

Doggett  I found  a most  friendly  man.  My  friends,  Francis 
J.  Oliver,  Mr.  Heard,  Mr.  Pollard,  and  others,  were  still,  as 
ever,  my  friends.  Sereno  E.  Dwight,  the  son  of  Dr.  Dwight, 

was  now  a preacher  established  in  Boston.  1 had  some  por- 
traits to  do,  and  passed  an  agreeable  summer.  In  New-York 
an  alarm  prevailed  of  yellow  fev^r,  but  no  apprehensions  were 
entertained  in  the  quarter  where  my  family  resided.  Still  my 
experiment  in  great  historical  painting  yielded  little  profit. 
Again  I shipped  my  picture  further  east,  to  Portland  ; and 
here  the  tide  of  fortune  turned.  This  place  yielded,  over  all 
expenses,  between  two  and  three  hundred  dollars  in  two 
weeks. 

On  hearing  of  this  success,  I passed  rapidly  by  land  on  to 
Portland,  for  the  purpose  of  stopping  at  all  the  towns,  and 
securing  rooms  for  exhibition.  I obtained  public  buildings, 
court-houses,  and  churches,  free  of  charge.  After  one  day  at 
Portland*  I returned  by  land  to  Boston  again,  after  having 
given  Doherty  a plan  of  operations  for  the  winter.  I visited 
Newport  on  my  way  home,  and  arrived  safely,  and  with  money 
in  my  pocket,  to  my  family,  and  again  set  up  my  esel  for  por- 
traits ; but  I was  now  represented  as  being  employed  in  histo- 
rical compositions,  and  for  that  reason  1 had  few  calls  for  por- 
traits. Perhaps  stronger  reasons  existed — younger  candidates 
and  better  painters  were  in  the  market.  1 this  winter,  that  of 
1822-3,  painted  a sketcl*for  another  great  picture  of  the  size 
of  the  first.  The  subject  chosen  was  “ The  Bearing  of  the 
Cross,”  in  which  I introduced  a crowd  of  figures  attending 
upon  the  victim  ; but  they  are  not  “ figures  to  let,”  but  the 
characters  of  the  evangelists,  most  of  whom  had  appeared  in 
the  “ Christ  Rejected.”  Barabbas,  now  at  liberty,  occupies 
one  corner — the  principal  figure  is  sinking  under  the  cross — 
the  centurion  is  ordering  the  seizure  of  Simon  the  Cyrenian, 
Sic.  I was  encouraged  to  proceed  with  this  study  by  the  suc- 
cess of  the  “ Christ  Rejected,”  from  which  I received  flatter- 
ing accounts  and  comfortable  remittances  of  cash.  At  Ports- 
mouth a sermon  was  preached,  recommending  attention  to  the 
picture,  and  the  selectmen  advised  its  exhibition  on  a Sunday 
evening.  My  visits  to  the  eastern  towns  had  facilitated  my 
agent’s  operations,  and  he  was  successful. 

In  the  spring  of  1823  1 was  invited  by  James  Hackett, 
then  keeping  a store  at  Utica,  to  come  to  that  place,  with 
assurances  of  his  engaging  some  work  for  my  pencil  ; and 
early  in  April  I proceeded,  after  a short  stop  at  Albany,  from 
whence  I took  some  letters  from  Samuel  M.  Hopkins  an^ 
Stephen  Van  Rensselaer  to  gentlemen  in  Utica,  and  arrived 


292 


First  visit  to  Utica  as  a painter. 

by  stage  in  due  time  at  Bagg’s  hotel.  In  1815  I had  boarded 
for  weeks  at  this  house,  then  acting  as  paymaster,  and  had 
seen  with  astonishment  the  growing  town  on  a spot  where  in 
] 787,  Governor  George  Clinton  made  his  treaty  in  the  wilder- 
ness with  the  Six  Nations.  Even  in  1815  a rich  population 
and  flourishing  villages  surrounded  Utica,  and  extended  west 
to  Lake  Erie,  through  the  thriving  towns  of  Geneva,  Canan- 
daigua and  Batavia  to  Buffalo,  (then  in  ruins  as  burnt  by  the 
English  ;)  but  now  eight  years  had  increased  Utica  to  a city, 
and  its  public  buildings,  court-house,  banks,  churches  and 
hotels,  filled  me  with  almost  as  much  surprise  as  [ felt  on  my 
first  visit.  Mr.  Hackett,  since  so  well  known  as  a comedian, 
received  me  cordially,  and  I found  old  acquaintances  in  James 
and  Walter  Cochran,  and  made  lasting  friends  in  J.  H.  Loth- 
rop,  Esq.,  cashier  of  the  bank  of  Ontario,  E.  Wetmore,  (since 
his  son-in-law,)  Mr.  Walker  and  his  son  Thomas,  and  in  short 
during  a spring  and  summer’s  residence  became  \as  much  at 
home  in  Utica  as  I had  been  at  Norfolk.  I painted  a number 
of  portraits.  I left  Utica  for  four  days  to  visit  Saratoga,  and 
contract  with  a builder  for  an  edifice  sufficient  for  the  exhibi- 
tion of  the  “ Christ  Rejected.”  I left  the  stage  on  the  post- 
road and  walked  to  Balston,  where  having  slept,  I walked  to 
Saratoga  springs  before  early  breakfast,  accomplished  my  busi- 
ness and  proceeded  on  foot  to  Schenectady? — next  day  returned 
by  stage  to  Utica.  In  July  my  wife  mgt  me  in  Albany  at  Samuel 
M.  Hopkins’,  and  returned  with  me  to  Utica,  where  we  took 
board  with  Mrs.  Skinner,  a sister  of  my  late  friend  Dr.  E.  H. 
Smith.  Weir  was  in  Albany  exhibiting  his  picture  of  Paul  at 
Athens  without  success.  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence’s  West  was  sent 
to  Philadelphia  and  exhibited  with  a loss  of  more  than  $100  ; 
Sully’s  Capuchin  Chapel  lost  by  its  exhibition  at  Saratoga 
springs,  as  did  my  “ Christ  Rejected  the  last,  fifty  dollars. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  having  some  taste  for  the  pictu- 
resque and  more  for  rambling,  I did  not  omit  the  opportunity 
neighbourhood  gave  me  of  visiting  Trenton  Falls,  to  which 
place  I rode  once  and  once  walked,  stopping  a day  in  clamber- 
ing rocks  and  making  sketches.  The  village  of  Trenton  I 
had  visited  as  a paymaster  in  1815.  I now  found  with  one  of 
its  inhabitants  a good  portrait  by  Copley. 

The  last  of  August  my  wife  left  me  to  return  home,  and 
about  the  middle  of  September  Doherty  arrived  with  my  pic- 
ture, which  was  put  up  for  exhibition  in  the  court-house.  The 
exhibition  in  Utica  yielded  in  three  weeks  $184  75,  giving  a 
profit  after  paying  the  expenses  and  transportation  to  Utica, 
of  $124  75. 


293 


James  Fennhnore  Cooper  and  Lunch. 

My  friend  Dr.  M.  Payne  had  removed  from  Montreal  to 
Geneva,  and  requested  me  to  send  on  the  picture  to  that  place.  I 
accordingly  directed  a building  to  be  erected  for  it,  and  in  the 
mean  time  sent  it  to  Auburn.  On  the  1 8th  of  October  1823, 
I left  my  friends  of  Utica  and  arrived  at  my  house  in  New- 
York  on  the  21  st. 

In  December  1 took  a painting-room  at  the  corner  of  Nas- 
sau and  Pine  streets,  but  sitters  were  shy.  “ The  Christ  Re- 
jected” was  still  successful,  and  I employed  a part  of  the  win- 
ter of  1823-4,  in  painting  a scene  from  James  Fennimore 
Cooper’s  Spy.  I had  recently  become  acquainted  with  him, 
and  acquaintance  has  ripened  into  friendship. 

On  the  23d  of  February  1824,  1 purchased  a large  unpre- 
pared cloth,  intended  as  a floor-cloth,  and  having  access  to 
the  garret  of  the  house  in  which  I had  my  attelier , I nailed  it 
to  the  floor,  and  gave  it  several  coats  of  white  lead,  which 
being  dry,  I proceeded  to  outline  the  “ Bearing  of  the  Cross” 
from  the  sketch  previously  made.  So  high,  and  so  low  was 
the  commencement  of  this  my  second  big  picture. 

This  winter  I became  a member  of  a club  which  called  itself 
the  Lunch — members  admitted  by  ballot,  one  black-ball  ex- 
cluding the  candidate.  Of  the  members  I recollect  G.  C.  Ver- 
plank,  J.  F.  Cooper,  Halleck,  Anthony  Bleeker,  Charles 
King,  James  Renwick,  James  Kent,  J.  Griscom,  Brevoort, 
Bryant  and  Morse,  as  of  my  acquaintance  before  and  since. 

About  the  beginning  of  May  I hired  a building  with  an  en- 
trance from  Broadway,  and  prepared  it  for  my  picture,  w hich 
now  approached  New-York,  and  on  the  21st  opened  it  for  ex- 
hibition. The  attention  paid  to  it  so  far  exceeded  my  expec- 
tation, that  I was  encouraged  to  proceed  with  the  Bearing  of 
the  Cross.  The  receipts  were  in  fourteen  w?eeks  $650.  Mr. 
Trumbull’s  fourth  picture  for  the  government  was  exhibiting 
part  of  the  time,  and  his  friend  Stone  of  the  Commercial  Ad- 
vertiser, who  represented  it  as  a wonder,  said  it  did  not  pay 
the  room  rent.  The  American  Academy  had  its  exhibition 
during  May  and  June. 

In  the  mean  time  I had  put  up  my  second  picture  in  my 
garret  in  Leonard-street,  but  on  removing  the  Christ  Rejected 
from  Broadway,  I put  the  Bearing  of  the  Cross  up  in  its 
place,  as  a far  better  light  to  paint  on  it.  I exhibited  it  in  this 
place,  but  not  with  the  success  of  the  first.  The  Christ  Re- 
jected was  exhibited  in  the  gallery  of  the  American  Academy 
of  Fine  Arts  on  shares,  and  yielded  me  profit. 

In  November  I visited  Philadelphia,  where  Trumbull’s  Re- 
signation of  Washington  was  exhibiting  free  of  rent  in  the 


294 


Quacks  and  certificates. 

state-house,  and  yielding  no  profit.  My  errand  at  this  time 
was  to  find  a place  for  putting  up  the  Bearing  of  the  Cross, 
which  was  done  by  engaging  Sully  and  Earle’s  gallery  on 
shares* 

To  paint  exhibition  pictures  and  show  them  was  the  busi- 
ness of  my  life  at  this  time  ; and  from  Philadelphia  the  “ Bear- 
ing of  the  Cross”  was  sent  with  Doherty  to  Washington  ; to 
which  place  I went,  partly  to  make  arrangements  for  the  pic- 
ture at  Baltimore,  and  partly  to  settle  my  paymaster’s  ac- 
counts— the  treasury  having  made  me  defaulter  to  the  amount 
of  some  thousand  dollars ; but  on  investigation  the  debt  was 
brought  down  to  one  dollar,  and  that  proceeded  from  an  error 
in  addition. 

I found  at  Gadsby’s  Hotel  Causici  the  sculptor,  and  in  the 
capitol  Rembrandt  Peale’s  painting  of  Washington  on  horse- 
back, with  Lafayette,  &c.  at  Yorktown — the  worst  of  his  pic- 
tures. 1 visited  the  capitol  with  Messrs.  Cambreleng  and  Van 
Rensselaer.  I saw  Trumbull’s  picture  of  the  Surrender  of 
Burgoyne  for  the  first  time,  having  been  at  Norfolk  when  he 
exhibited  it.  I found  it  better  than  the  Resignation,  but  can 
say  no  more  in  its  praise.  The  whole  set  were  in  bad  odour. 
C.  B.  King  agreed  to  exhibit  my  picture  in  his  gallery.  I 
visited  my  friend  Major  Vandeventer,  at  Georgetown,  and  the 
place  brought  vivid  reminiscences  of  the  year  1807.  I had 
formerly  painted  pictures  of  the  major  and  his  wife ; but  his 
picture  did  not  satisfy,  and  I now  took  the  opportunity  of 
painting  another  for  him,  and  staid  some  days  with  his  most 
amiable  and  exemplary  family. 

A distinguished  member  of  congress  told  me  that  the  Cus- 
tis’s,  the  relatives  of  Washington,  had  told  him  that  they  did 
not  consider  Peale’s  certificate-picture  like  the  general  at  any 
period  of  his  life,  yet,  he  continued,  “ they  signed  Peale’s 
certificate,  stating  that  it  is  the  true  and  only  likeness  of  Wash- 
ington.” He  then  mentioned  a distinguished  senator,  whose 
name  was  appended  to  the  same  certificate,  who  told  him  that 
it  was  not  a likeness  in  his  opinion.  On  his  reminding  him  of 
his  signature,  the  reply  was,  “ I could  not  deny  the  man.”  So 
much  for  certificates  and  for  the  love  of  truth  ! This  conver- 
sation passed  as  we  stood  before  Peale’s  picture  of  “ Washing- 
ton at  Yorktown,”  which  was,  as  it  deserved,  condemned.  The 
dishonourable  and  immoral  practice  of  certifying  to  falsehoods, 
or  to  that  of  which  we  are  ignorant,  is  not  confined  to  Ameri- 
ca. I found  at  Washington  a Scotchman  who  told  the  Yankees 
that  he  could  cure  all  diseases  by  a steam  bath  impregnated 
with  herbs.  He  knew  each  person’s  disease  by  smelling  the  pa- 


295 


My  picture  of  Calvary. 

tient ; that  he  had  left  four  agents  to  cure  the  people  at  home, 
and  had  come  with  one  assistant  to  cure  ns.  He  was  furnished 
with  due  certificates  signed  by  the  lords  and  commons  of  Eng- 
land, and  at  their  head  the  name  of  the  Duke  of  York. 

I called  with  my  friend  Vandeventer  on  General  Jackson, 
and  was  pleased  with  my  reception  and  his  manners.  My 
friend,  James  Fennimore  Cooper,  visited  Washington  at  this 
time,  and  I had  the  pleasure  of  his  company,  and  that  of  some 
of  his  former  naval  associates  on  my  return.  I think  he  will 
remember  the  story  of  the  Irish  sportsman  rabbit  hunting, 
who,  seeing  a donkey  looking  over  a hedge  swore  he  had 
found  the  father  of  all  rabbits.  On  this  journey,  February 
1825,  I became  acquainted  with  Robert  Gilmor,  Esq.  of  Bal- 
timore, and  saw  his  choice  collection  of  pictures.  On  the 
sixteenth  I arrived,  after  a very  fatiguing  journey,  at  my  house, 
and  found  my  family  well ; but  in  a few  days  was  confined  to 
my  bed  by  illness  for  ten  days,  and  to  my  chamber  many 
more — a lamentable  beginning  of  the  fifty-ninth  year  of  my 

age- 

My  next  exertion  as  an  artist  was  the  composition  of  a third 
picture,  connected  with  the  crucifixion,  which  I called  “ Cal- 
vary.” This  winter  and  spring  I finished  the  sketch  in  oil, 
thirty  inches  by  twenty-five — probably  my  best  composition. 

Before  transferring  it  to  the  large  canvas,  I painted  from 
nature  the  principal  figures  and  groups  separately.  I had 
none  of  that  facility  which  attends  the  adept  in  drawing,  and 
now  felt  the  penalt}^ — one  of  the  penalties  of  my  idleness  and 
folly  when  I had  the  Royal  Academy  of  England  at  my  com- 
mand, and  the  advice  of  the  best  historical  painter  of  the  age 
always  ready  for  my  instruction — and  both  neglected.  I now, 
and  for  some  years  before,  studied  the  casts  from  the  antique 
and  improved,  but  my  drawing  remained  deficient.  I had 
neglected  “the  spring  of  life,”  and  it  never  returns. 

When  studying  the  casts  in  the  gallery  of  the  American 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  I was  very  much  struck  by  the  defi- 
ciency apparent  in  those  of  Canova  when  compared  with  the  an- 
tique. I was  mortified  to  see  that  the  man  who  was~called  the 
greatest  genius  the  modern  world  had  produced  as  a sculptor, 
was  in  my  estimation  a pigmy  ; and  I felt,  until  some  years 
after,  when  I saw  the  Mercury  of  Thorwaldsden  in  the  gallery 
of  the  National  Academy  of  Design,  that  it  was  in  vain  for  a 
modern  to  emulate  the  statuary  of  antiquity. 

In  April  I made  a journey  to  Baltimore — received  my  Bear- 
ing of  the  Cross  from  Rubens  Peale,  and  had  it  transported  to 
Philadelphia,  where  it  was  put  up  in  Sully  & Earl’s  gallery — * 


296 


More  exhibition  pictures. 

it  proved  an  unprofitable  exhibition  ; but  I passed  the  first 
week  of  May  very  pleasantly  with  Sully  and  other  friends. 

From  the  23d  to  the  28th  of  May  I made  a pleasant  excursion 
to  New-London  and  Norwich,  to  direct  a young  man  in  the- 
mode  of  exhibiting  my  “ Christ  Rejected”  in  those  places  and 
further  east.  Returning  home,  I found  some  portrait-painting 
awaiting  me,  and  continued  my  studies  for  “ the  Calvary.” 
Warned  by  the  bad  effect  of  my  floor-cloth  experiment  (for  I 
never  got  a good  surface  for  the  “ Bearing  of  the  Cross,”)  I 
had  a cloth  prepared  at  McCauley’s  manufactory,  Philadel- 
phia, which  proved  satisfactory.  I likewise  ordered  a canvas, 
twenty  feet  by  ten,  having  determined  to  make  a picture  from 
the  etched  outline  of  West’s  “ Death  on  the  Pale  Horse,”  tak- 
ing, as  my  guide,  the  printed  description  ; and  in  the  summer 
of  1825  was  busily  employed  in  studies  for  the  “ Calvary” 
and  in  painting  the  above-named  picture. 

Having  determined  to  finish  my  “ Death  on  the  Pale 
Horse”  before  the  “ Calvary,”  I exerted  myself  for  that  pur- 
pose, and  making  an  arrangement  with  the  directors  of  the 
American  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  for  the  use  of  the  gallery  at 
twenty-five  dollars  a week,  I opened  the  picture  to  the  public 
in  two  months  and  twenty-six  days  from  the  commencement  of 
the  outline.  This  exhibition  was  successful,  and  my  picture 
was  only  taken  down  to  make  way  for  David’s  “Coronation 
of  Bonaparte.” 

In  November  I became  acquainted  with  the  person  and 
paintings  of  Mr.  T.  Cole,  since  so  well  known  as  the  celebrat- 
ed landscape-painter.  1 did  the  best  I could  to  make  the  pub- 
lic acquainted  with  the  extraordinary  merit  of  his  pictures 
even  then,  and  it  is  among  the  few  of  my  good  deeds.  He  has 
proved  more  than  I anticipated,  and  I have  been  repaid  by  his 
friendship  and  gratified  by  his  success.  Mr.  Trumbull  at- 
tracted my  attention  to  Mr.  Cole,  by  the  most  liberal  praises 
of  his  painting,  and  expressions  of  surprise  at  the  taste  and 
skill  he  had  manifested. 

In  January  1826,  I had  the  bearing  of  the  cross  on  exhibi- 
tion at  Charleston,  the  Death  on  the  Pale  Horse  at  Norfolk, 
and  the  Christ  Rejected  at  Washington. 

It  may  be  amusing  to  my  readers  to  see  a specimen  of  the 
literary  talent  of  one  of  my  agents,  an  honest  old  man,  who 
was  indebted  to  his  native  country,  England,  for  his  educa- 
tion. It  is  a letter  dated  Pitsburg,  (meaning  Petersburg  in 
Virginia)  March  15th,  1826. 

“The  proceeds  of  the  painting  was  110  dollars  in  Rich- 
mond— It  wos  very  bad  weather  all  the  time — I Cold  not  Geat 


297 


Sixty  years  of  age . 

the  Church  in  Pitsburge,  it  wos  sold  to  the  Freemasons  for  a 
Log,  and  it  wos  Poold  all  to  Peasses  in  the  in  Side,  I have  a 
Ball  Room  in  the  sentre  of  the  Town,  it  is  a much  better 
Plass.  I open’d  on  Mounday  Eavning  at  6 o’clock,  at  seven 
it  began  to  rain.  I receive  $1  50  ; Tuesday  $17  50  Wensday 
$ 16  25  Thursday  at  1 o’clock  $6  25”  the  time  he  closed  his 
epistle  “ I leave  year  on  Sunday  for  Norfork  25 — P.  S.  I pay 
$1  50  Per  Day  four  the  room — Your  Humbel  Sarvent ” 

This,  beside  being  a literary  curiosity,  will  give  the  reader 
some  notions  of  the  mode  of  exhibiting  from  town  to  town, 
and  the  contingencies  upon  which  profit  depends.  It  may  be 
supposed  that  the  eloquence  of  this  showman  did  not  add  to 
the  attraction  of  my  picture  ; but  I have  known  some  of  the 
tribe,  who,  by  management  and  an  oily  tongue,  have  made 
money  for  their  employers  and  for  themselves . 

In  February  I had  recurrence  of  abscess  with  attendant 
illness,  an  evil  which  has  occurred  at  intervals,  and  in  my 
mind  is  traced  to  that  I have  recorded  of  my  early  days  in  Lon- 
don. On  the  19th  I find  in  my  journal,  “ 1 this  day  com- 
plete the  sixtieth  year  of  my  age  ; physically  worse — am  I 
morally  better?  As  a man,  I hope  I am  a little  improved  ; as 
an  artist,  more.  My  health  worse,  my  fortune  a little  better 
by  the  increase  of  income  from  the  works  of  my  pencil.” 

I was  this  winter  anxiously  employed  in  painting  on  the 
“ Calvary,”  in  an  apartment  granted  to  me  by  the  corporation 
of  the  city. 

At  this  time  the  National  Academy  of  Design  was  cre- 
ated, composed  of  and  governed  by  artists  only.  I became 
an  active  member,  being  elected  an  academician.  In  the 
spring  I continued  to  paint  studies  from  nature,  for  the 
tl  Calvary,”  and  likewise  painted  several  portraits.  In  the 
month  of  May  the  National  Academy  of  Design  opened  their 
first  annual  exhibition,  which  has  increased  in  interest  yearly. 

About  this  time  I sent  my  picture  of  u Christ  Rejected”  to 
the  far  West , and  it  produced  profit  and  compliments  ; but  it 
likewise  produced  a letter  which  I will  lay  before  the  reader, 
as  a proof  of  the  effect  which  a picture  may  produce  in  ex- 
citing ambition,  and  of  the  kind  of  stuff  ambition  may  be  made 
of.  “ Urbana,  Ohio,  Champaign  county,  Dec.  30th,  1826. 
Mr.  William  Dunlap,  I write  my  respects  to  you  tb^-  '^  ^j]e 
influence  of  the  gentleman  that  had  your  pointing  through  this 
country.  I informed  him  that  I was  an  artist  of  that  kind 
also  ; am  in  low  circumstances;  am  20  years  old,  and  have  a 
great  genius  for  historical  painting ; and  he  informed  me  to 
write  to  you,  informing  you  on  the  subject  of  painting.  Hs, 


298 


Trott  and  Tisdale. 


told  me  that  I ought  to  make  some  specimens  of  my  work, 
and  if  it  would  justify,  I could  go  to  the  National  Academy  of 
Fine  Arts.  I wish  you  to  write  to  me  on  the  subject  if  you 
please.  The  citizens  of  this  place  thinks,  with  tuition,  I would 
make  a superior  to  any  artist  they  had  ever  saw.  I went  40 
miles  to  see  your  painting,  and  it  creates  a new  feeling  in  me. 
Nothing  more  at  present,  but  remain  your  humble  servant. 
H.  H.” 

I saw  two  pictures  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Sami.  Maverick, 
said  to  be  Hogarth’s  ; one  of  them  has  a drummer  which 
would  not  dishonour  the  great  painter.  These  pictures  were 
brought  to  this  country  by  Mr.  Charles  Caton,  himself  a 
painter  of  merit,  and  were  painted  by  him.  The  latter  part 
of  this  month  I passed  at  Albany,  having  taken  my  “Death 
on  the  Pale  Horse”  thither,  and  being  enabled,  by  the  polite- 
ness of  Mr.  Stevenson  the  mayor,  Doctor  Beck,  Mr.  Ganse- 
voort,  and  other  gentlemen,  to  have  it  exhibited  in  the  great 
hall  of  the  academy,  where  the  effect  was  far  beyond  what  I 
had  seen  from  it  elsewhere.  Mr.  Croswell  advised  and  assist- 
ed me  in  the  most  friendly  manner  in  the  accomplishment  of 
my  object. 

I resided  at  this  time  with  my  good  friend  Cruttenden,  and 
the  conversations  at  his  table  were  oft-times  amusing.  We 
had  with  us  a rough  judge  from  one  of  the  western  counties, 
who  was  particularly  annoyed  by  a young  man  of  New- 
York,  of  rather  much  pretensions  to  multifarious  knowledge. 
Upon  the  dandy’s  talking,  with  a dictatorial  air,  of  Belzopi 
and  the  Orrery  that  he  had  discovered  in  an  Egyptian  pyra- 
mid, the  old  man  lost  all  patience  and  broke  out  with  “ Bel- 
zoni  is  not  so  ignorant  as  to  talk  of  an  Orrery  in  an  Egyptian 
pyramid.  No,  sir,  you  will  not  find  the  word  in  his  writings. 
The  word  is  modern — -a  name  given  to  a modern  invention,  in 
honour  to  Lord  Orrery,  You  mean,  if  you  mean  any  thing, 
the  Zodiac.”  The  young  man  walked  off,  and  the  judge 
supposing  him  to  be  an  Albanian,  turned  to  me,  “ You  must 
not  expect  any  thing  from  this  stupid  place.  There  are  not 
three  men  in  it  that  ever  thought.  I’ll  tell  you  an  anecdote. — 
At  a time  of  yellow  fever  in  New-York,  two  miniature  paint-. 
tfS,  Trott  and  Tisdale,  came  to  this  city;  they  took  a room 
and  painted  some  heads.  This  was  about  the  year  ’96.  It 
was  a novelty,  and  the  gentlemen  of  Albany  visited  the 
painters  and  were  pleased  with  them  ; and  on  occasion  of  a 
ball  they  were  getting  up,  they  sent  them  tickets  of  invitation. 
But  before  the  ball  took  place  they  had  time  to  reflect  and 
consult;  and  the  result  was,  that  a note  was  written  to  the 


299 


Visit  Utica  again • 

painters  to  say  that  the  gentlemen  of  Albany  must  recall  the 
invitation,  as,  according  to  the  rules,  no  mechanics  could  be 
admitted.”  I insert  this  freely,  because  of  the  known  intelli- 
gence of  the  inhabitants  of  a city  where  our  legislature 
convenes,  our  highest  courts  sit,  and  many  of  our  judges  and 
first  men  reside,  who  are  accustomed  to  think  and  act  with 
propriety.  “ Sir,”  he  continued,  “ 1 saw  both  the  notes 
myself, ’’which  were  probably  from  shop-keepers  or  their  clerks, 
whose  knowledge  might  not  rise  higher  in  the  scale  than  such 
notes  indicate. 

From  Albany,  where  I received  profit  from  my  exhibition, 
and  pleasure  from  my  friends,  I proceeded  to  Troy,  and  had 
the  picture  exhibited  with  profit  ; and  thence  to  Utica,  where 
I found  a man  apparently  equal  to  the  charge  of  my  picture  ; 
which  was  exhibited  profitably,  and  sent  on  westward.  In 
Utica  I found  great  change— enormous  growth — some  of  my 
friends  gone  from  thence,  and  some  removed  by  death  ; but 
Lothrop  and  his  charming  family,  with  many  others,  still 
ready  to  add  to  my  pleasure  and  welfare.  I painted  at  this 
time  several  portraits. 

At  Syracuse,  a new  place,  I had  my  picture  put  up  in  an 
unfinished  church,  where  it  did  but  little,  and  I sent  it  on  to 
Auburn  and  passed  on  to  Geneva.  After  a few  days  I went 
to  Canandaigua  and  to  Rochester.  I will  copy  a passage 
from  my  journal — “ When  I saw  Utica  in  1815,  1 was  aston- 
ished ; in  1823  1 admired  its  growth  and  again  in  1826*. 
Syracuse,  Auburn,  and  Geneva,  are  all  causes  of  admira- 
tion from  their  prosperity,  as  is  Canandaigua,  but  all  sink 
into  insignificance  in  comparison  with  Rochester,  when  the 
time  of  its  first  settlement  is  considered.  In  1815  it  was 
unknown : now  the  canal,  bridges,  churches,  court  house, 
hotels,  all  upon  a great  scale,  excite  my  astonishment  anew 
at  the  wonders  of  the  west.”  I viewed  the  Falls  of  the  Genesee 
River,  and  soon  after  embarked  in  the  canal-boat,  and  passed 
many  flourishing  villages  to  Lockport,  where  the  excavations 
for  the  canal  are  of  a magnitude  to  excite  the  surprise  of  the 
untravelled.  The  canal  brought  me  into  Tonawanta  Creek, 
where  another  scene  of  a milder  aspect  is  presented,  and  I 
soon  saw  the  great  Niagara.  One  of  my  pictures  was  on 
exhibition  at  Buffalo,  and  I ordered  it  on  to  Detroit.  In  the 
towns  1 had  passed  I made  arrangements  for  the  picture  of 

Death  on  the  Pale  Horse,”  which  was  to  follow. 

Buffalo,  which  I had  left  in  1815  a desolated  village,  I now 
found  a large  and  thriving  town,  with  splendid  hotels,  large 
churches,  a theatre,  a noble  court-house,  showing  enterprise 


300 


Notes  on  the  Bible , by  J.  Q.  Adams. 

and  prosperity  ; while  steam-boats  and  other  vessels  indicate 
the  commerce  of  the  inland  sea.  'Rain  induced  me  to  return 
without  visiting  again  the  Falls  of  Niagara  : T have  ever  re- 
gretted the  omission.  In  the  canal-boat  i retraced  my  way 
home.  1 landed  at  a village  called  Lyons,  slept  and  proceed- 
ed by  stage  to  Geneva,  thence  to  Auburn,  and  at  Syracuse 
embarked  on  the  canal  for  Utica,  where  I arrived  on  the  21st 
of  October.  A manuscript  was  here  lent  me,  which  I read 
with  interest,  written  on  the  Bible  and  New  Testament,  by 
John  Q.  Adams,  as  instructions  to  his  son,  by  this  indefati- 
gable man.  Extract,  respecting  the  latter  — “ If  it  be  ob- 
jected, that  the  principle  of  benevolence  towards  our  enemies, 
and  forgiveness  of  injuries,  nTay  be  found,  not  only  in  the 
books  of  the  Old  Testament,  but  even  in  some  of  the  heathen 
writers,  and  particularly  in  the  Discourses  of  Socrates,  I an- 
swer, that  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
and  of  the  rewards  and  punishments  of  a future  state.  The 
doctrine  was  not  more  of  a discovery  than  the  precept.  But 
the  connection  with  each  other,  the  authority  with  which  they 
were  taught,  and  the  miracles  by  which  they  were  enforced, 
belong  exclusively  to  the  mission  of  Christ.” 

At  Utica  I again  was  employed  to  paint  several  portraits; 
receiving,  as  usual,  the  kind  attentions  of  my  friends,  and  in- 
dulging my  propensity  to  ramble  about  the  neighbourhood. 
— On  the  4th  of  November  I left  Utica,  and  on  the  8th  was 
happy  with  my  family. 

During  this  winter  of  1826-7  I painted  on  my  picture  of 
Calvary,  but  had  part  of  my  time  occupied  by  an  engagement 
with  the  managers  of  the  BoweryTheatre  to  write  occasionally 
for  them.  As  the  subject  of  filling  the  vacant  pannels  of  the 
Rotunda,  at  Washington,  was  at  this  time  agitated  in  Con- 
gress, I wrote  to  G.  C.  Verplanck  on  the  subject.  The  follow- 
ing is  an  answer  to  my  letter.— “ Washington,  Jan.  29,  1827. 
Dear  sir,  I do  not  know,  at  this  moment,  how  I can  be  useful 
in  furthering  your  views.  The  whole  subject  of  decorating,  as 
well  as  finishing  the  capitol,  is  now  in  the  hands  of  a commit- 
tee, to  which  I do  not  belong.  General  Van  Rensselaer  is  the 
chairman.  I understand  that  they  are  very  anxious  to  press 
the  completion  of  the  building ; and  Mr.  Bulfinch,  the  archi- 
tect, complains  much  of  the  precipitancy.  If  so,  probably 
they  will  recommend  so  large  an  appropriation  to  the  archi- 
tect as  to  leave  little  for  other  artists.  As  soon  as  they  make 
their  report  I will  send  you  a copy. 

“ Besides  the  four  vacancies  in  the  Rotunda,  I have  been 
urging  the  propriety  of  placing  some  works  of  art  connected 


Curious  contrast  in  the  treatment  of  my  agents.  301 

with  the  history,  or  at  least  with  the  scenery  of  the  country, 
in  the  large  room  of  the  President’s  house,  which  is  now  fill- 
ing up.  Its  size,  (80  or  90  feet  by  50)  its  height,  &c.  fit  it 
admirably  for  the  purpose  ; and  il  would  be  honourable  to  the 
nation  to  apply  it  thus,  instead  of  filling  it  merely  with  mirrors, 
curtains,  and  chandeliers,  like  a tavern  ball  room,  or  at  best, 
a city  drawing  room  on  a large  scale.  I am,  &c.” 

A member  of  the  senate  wrote  to  me — “ Col.  Trumbull  is 
here,  and  has  been  all  winter  seeking  to  be  employed  to  fill 
the  vacant  pannels.”  About  this  time  the  letters  written  by 
Trumbull  to  the  President  (for  which  see  his  biography)  were 
published  by  the  directors  of  the  American  Academy,  and  the 
originals,  by  unanimous  vote,  deposited  in  the  archives. 

During  the  winter  and  spring  of  1826-7  I not  only  painted 
on  my  “ Calvary,”  but  put  up  and  painted  on  the  “ Bearing 
of  the  Cross,”  and  finished  several  portraits  ; one  of  which, 
Thomas  Eddy,  was  for  the  governors  of  the  New-York  Hos- 
pital ; who  afterwards  ordered  a copy,  to  place  in  the  Asylum 
for  the  Insane,  an  institution  owing  its  being  to  Mr.  Eddy. — 
Several  copies  of  this  portrait  were  ordered. 

I experienced,  during  the  winter  of  1827-8,  a great  diminu- 
tion of  profit  from  my  exhibition  pictures,  which  were  travel- 
ling east  and  west.  The  incidents  attending  them  would  fill 
a volume.  At  one  place  a picture  would  be  put  up  in  a 
church,  and  a sermon  preached  in  recommendation  of  it  : in 
another,  the  people  would  be  told  from  the  pulpit  to  avoid  it, 
as  blasphemous ; and  in  another  the  agent  is  seized  for  violat- 
ing the  law  taxing  puppet-shows,  after  permission  given  to 
exhibit ; and  when  he  is  on  his  way  to  another  town,  he  is 
brought  back  by  constables,  like  a criminal,  and  obliged  to 
pay  the  tax,  and  their  charges  for  making  him  a prisoner. — 
Here  the  agent  of  a picture  would  be  encouraged  by  the  first 
people  of  the  place,  and  treated  by  the  clergy  as  if  he  were  a 
saint ; and  there  received  as  a mountebank,  and  insulted  by  a 
mob.  Such  is  the  variety  of  our  manners,  and  the  various 
degrees  of  refinement  in  our  population.  On  the  whole,  the 
reception  of  my  pictures  was  honourable  to  me  and  to  my 
countrymen. 

In  February  1828,  I was  introduced  to  Horatio  Greenough, 
who  will  occupy  a distinguished  page  in  this  work.  About 
this  time  I painted,  and  gave  to  James  Hackett  a full  length, 
about  17  inches  by  12,  of  himself  as  Jonathan.  In  April  I 
wasted  some  time  in  studying  lithography  and  making  experi- 
ments— I say  wasted,  because  I did  not  succeed. 

On  the  5th  of  May,  1828,  I opened  for  exhibition  my  long 


302 


My  large  picture  of  Calvary, 

wrought  on  picture  of  “Calvary.”  I will  indulge  myself  by  ex- 
tracts from  an  essay  which  appeared  in  the  Mirror,  written  by 
a stranger  to  me,  recently  from  South  Carolina. 

“ This  picture  is  eighteen  by  fourteen  feet.  The  subject  is 
the  moment  before  the  crucifixion  of  Jesus,  and  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  sacrifice.  How  far  this  great  and  truly  poetical 
design  has  been  brought  into  life  and  being  on  the  canvas,  it 
is  for  the  spectator  to  feel  and  judge.  The  first  impression  on 
the  eye  is  the  living  mass,  the  amphitheatre  of  figures,  that  sur- 
rounds the  base  of  the  mount,  and  gradually  ascends,  thickens, 
and  fades  into  distant  perspective.  The  eye  then  retraces  its 
progress,  and  pauses  on  more  distinct  and  separate  impres- 
sions, dwelling  with  delight  on  the  beautiful  grouping,  and 
classically  correct  costume  of  the  multitude  assembled  to  wit- 
ness the  death  of  the  great  Author  of  Christianity. 

“ But  it  is  not  true,  that  ‘the  eye  of  the  spectator  is  first 
attracted  to  the  principal  figure — that  of  the  Redeemer — who 
stands  near  the  top  of  the  mount.’  Had  this  ‘attraction’  ex- 
isted ; had  this  effect  been  produced  : the  picture  would  have 
been  more  complete  in  its  epic  purpose.  On  the  contrary,  ‘ the 
eye  is  attracted,’  instantly,  and  instinctively,  to  the  groups  in 
the  fore-ground ; the  striking  and  passionate  attitudes  of  the 
first  followers  of  Jesus ; and  the  expression  of  ecclesiastical 
persecution  against  the  reformer,  which  burns  amongthe  priests 
and  pharisees.  The  ‘principal’  figures  are,  therefore,  the 
multitude ; and  Jesus,  in  the  back  ground,  is  but  auxiliary  to 
the  great  effects. 

“ The  four  figures  on  the  left,  consisting  of  Mary  the  mother, 
Mary  Magdalen,  Mary  the  daughter  of  Cleophas,  and  John, 
compose  a group  of  the  deepest  interest.  Abstract  them  from 
the  picture,  and,  in  themselves,  they  constitute  an  eloquent 
commentary  on  the  subject.  The  strong  expression  of  grief, 
the  grace  of  form,  the  intellectual  beauty  which  distinguishes 
the  females  we  have  never  seen  exceeded. 

“ The  high  priest,  in  the  next  group,  ought,  perhaps,  to  be 
placed  nearer  his  victim ; but  it  is  a classical  and  finished 
figure. 

“ On  the  right,  the  harmony  of  this  beautiful  picture  is  sus- 
tained with  equal,  if  not  superior  effect.  The  female  whose 
exquisite  neck  is  presented  to  the  spectator,  and  the  wife  of 
Pilate  * in  costly  robes,’  are  beautifully  delineated.  We  then 
ascend  the  hill,  pass  on  from  object  to  object,  from  the  pharisee 
disputing  with  Joseph,  to  Peter  and  Barabbas  ; Simon  support- 
ing the  cross,  the  Roman  soldier,  women,  and  other  spectators 
fill  this  portion  of  the  picture.  On  the  extreme  right  is  seen  a 


303 


Sixty-three  years  of  age. 

female  with  two  lovely  girls.  The  Asiatic  guards  which  occupy 
this  division  of  the  foreground,  are  also  in  strict  and  classical 
accordance.” 

The  reader  must  not  think  that  I consider  this  praise  as 
just.  Although  the  picture  is  my  best  composition  and 
most  finished,  it  is,  in  my  opinion  at  present,  very  defective. 
W riters  who  describe  pictures  are  generally  ignorant  of  true 
merit,  and  partial  in  their  criticisms  or  eulogiums. 

I had  at  this  period  commenced  my  History  of  the  American 
Theatre,  which  eventually  yielded  me  some  remuneration,  both 
from  the  publishers  here  and  in  England,  but  of  course  occu- 
pied much  of  my  time  ; and  I had  before  this  learned  that  time 
was  my  only  property,  and  the  proper  use  of  it  the  only  sup- 
port of  my  family. 

My  income  was  at  this  time  very  low.  1 had  contracted 
debts  to  support  me  while  painting  my  last  large  picture.  I 
sold  to  Mr.  Eickholtz  of  Philadelphia,  my  lay  figure  which  was 
one  of  the  best,  and  purchased  for  me  from  the  maker  in  Paris. 

In  June  I went  to  Philadelphia  to  make  arrangements  for 
exhibiting  “ the  Calvary”  in  that  city,  which  was  done  in  the 
Pennsylvania  Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  through  the  liberality  of 
the  Hon.  Joseph  Hopkinson,  president  of  that  institution.  It  was 
exhibited  during  the  months  of  October  and  November  1828, 
occupying — the  more  the  pity  ! though  for  a short  time,  the 
place  of  Allston’s  great  picture.  The  profit  was  little.  I had 
in  the  mean  time  an  exhibition  open  in  New-York,  which 
yielded  something,  and  I painted  a few  portraits.  In  October 
the  Bearing  of  the  Cross  was  sent  on  a tour  to  the  west.  In 
the  winter  the  “ Calvary”  was  exhibited  in  Baltimore,  but 
none  of  these  efforts  were  successful  to  any  extent.  I received 
something  from  successful  dramas  at  the  Bowery  Theatre,  and 
painted  during  the  winter,  principally  after  the  commencement 
of  1829,  several  portraits.  From  my  journal  I extract  an 
entry,  not  made  for  the  public  eye: — 

“Thursday,  19th  of  February,  1829 — I am  this  day  63 
years  of  age,  active,  and  I think  stronger  than  a year  ago.  I 
believe  I am  improving  as  an  artist.  As  a man,  1 hope  I am — 
but  it  is  little  ! May  God  receive  my  thanks  for  his  blessings, 
and  may  his  will  be  done  !” 

In  March  my  “ Calvary”  was  exhibiting  in  Washington 
with  praise  and  profit.  I painted  a portrait  of  Samuel  S. 
Conant,  which  led  to  a visit  of  some  profit  and  much  plea- 
sure in  a region  new  to  me — Vermont.  About  this  time  the 
Common  Council  notified  all  the  occupants  of  the  old  Alms- 
house to  vacate  on,  or  before  first  of  August  next.  A 


304 


Vermont , Brandon  and  the  Conants. 


very  pleasant  Club  was  formed,  of  which  l remained  a member 
until  it  expired,  like  all  mortal  things.  It  was  called  the  Sketch 
Club.  The  members  met  at  each  other’s  houses,  sketched  and 
conversed  principally  on  art,  took  refreshments,  and  unfortu- 
nately, sometimes  suppers.  The  National  Academicians  were 
most  of  them  members,  as  were  many  of  my  literary  friends. 

In  July  I had  a severe  recurrence  of  the  disease  which  has 
pursued  me  through  life.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  same  month 
I received  an  invitation  from  Samuel  S.  Conant,  (at  that  time  at 
his  father’s  in  Vermont,  disabled  by  a lameness,  which  some 
years  after  caused  his  death,)  to  come  and  paint  eight  portraits 
of  his  father’s  family  at  Brandon.  In  August  I received  a de- 
finite invitation  and  agreement  for  eight  portraits  from  John 
Conant  and  sons.  In  this  month  I made  a tour  to  Albany — 
Troy — Saratoga — to  prepare  the  way  for  the  exhibition  of 
“Calvary,”  returned  to  Albany,  and  staid  atmy  friend  Samuel 
M.  Hopkins’,  most  pleasantly  with  his  amiable  family,  while  I 
painted  several  portraits  at  the  Academy  Hall.  My  friend 
Cruttenden  engaged  two  fancy  pictures  to  be  painted  at  New- 
York. 

I stopped  on  my  way  to  Brandon  at  Castleton,  a very  pleasant 
village,  and  became  acquainted  with  Doctor  Lewis  Beck,  bro- 
ther to  my  friend  Doctor  Beck  of  Albany,  and  with  Doctor 
Woodward,  afterwards  of  vital  importance  to  me.  Passing 
through  Rutland,  I reached  Brandon,  and  took  up  my  resi- 
dence with  the  hospitable  family  of  the  elder  Mr.  Conant. 

Vermont,  a rough  country  and  newly  settled,  is  a perfect 
contrast  to  Virginia.  A black  face  is  not  to  be  seen  in 
Brandon.  Every  man  works  and  all  prosper.  John  Conant, 
like  every  other  father  of  a family  in  the  state,  came  from  the 
old  New-England  States.  The  country  was  settled  and  ob- 
tained its  independent  self-government  in  despite  of  its  neigh- 
bour, New-York.  Mr.  Conant  was  a first  settler  at  Brandon, 
built  his  own  house  with  his  own  hands,  (and  a very  good  one 
it  is,)  and  by  prudence  and  industry  established  a manufactory 
of  iron  ware,  and  a family  of  children,  together  forming  riches 
that  princes  might  envy.  I remained  with  this  worthy  family 
until  the  21st  of  October,  when  ice,  and  the  snow  on  the  moun- 
tain, warned  me  to  seek  home.  Painting,  and  rambling  over 
hills  and  by  the  side  of  Otter  Creek,  a river  that  falls  into 
Lake  Champlain,  with  reading,  (for  I found  books  and  read- 
ers here,)  filled  up  my  time  agreeably,  and  I took  leave  of  my 
Brandon  friends  with  an  impression  of  deep  esteem.  Mr. 
Chauncey  Conant  conveyed  me  over  the  Hubbard-town  hills 
to  Castleton,  and  pointed  out  on  the  way  one  of  the  spots  made 


305 


West's  Christ  Rejected  in  New-York. 

memorable  by  a skirmish  between  a foraging  party  from  Bur- 
goyne’s  army  and  the  Vermontese  militia.  At  Castleton  he 
left  me,  and  I proceeded  by  stage  to  Albany,  suffering  severely 
from  cold  on  the  way. 

At  New  York  I found  Mr.  West’s  youngest  son,  Benjamin, 
with  his  father’s  “Christ  Rejected.”  As  I had  been  fully 
persuaded  that  England  would  never  permit  that  great  work 
to  be  carried  across  the  Atlantic,  I had,  as  I have  stated,  made 
use  of  the  etchings  of  figures  published  from  it,  and  always 
avowed  the  obligation.  On  seeing  the  picture,  I put  out  all 
the  figures  borrowed,  and  introduced  others  of  my  own,  worse. 

1 lost  the  Barabbas,  but  I gained  by  a group  of  the  Virgin 
and  others,  which  now  occupies  his  place.  I admired  Mr. 
West’s  noble  picture,  the  principal  figure  of  which  I think  one 
of  the  finest  I ever  beheld  : yet,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  I 
frankly  avow,  that  my  picture,  with  all  its  faults,  rose  in  my 
estimation.  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  I was,  or  am,  so 
blind  as  to  compare  my  drawing,  touch,  colouring,  or  finish- 
ing, to  West’s  : beside  that  all  the  originality  of  the  subject 
is  his.  But  I found  that  my  grouping  and  disposition  of  the 
light  and  shade,  the  attitude  of  Christ,  and  the  situation  of 
Pilate,  the  executioner  and  others,  were  as  different  as  if  I had 
never  read  a description  of  his  picture. 

This  winter  I painted  two  pictures  for  my  friend  Crutten- 
den,  and  a few  portraits.  Among  others,  one  of  my  best  ef- 
forts, a child  returning  from  school,  for  the  Hon.  William 
M‘Coun,  vice  chancellor  ; and  a female  study,  which  I called 
the  Historic  Muse,  bought  in  1833,  by  H.  C.  Beach,  Esq. 
This,  Sully  said,  was  my  best  picture. 

I received  rather  more  than  of  late  from  my  travelling  pic- 
tures ; and  on  the  19th  of  Feb.  1830,  I find  in  my  journal, — 
“ I am  to-day  64  years  of  age — active,  and  enjoying  generally 
comfortable  health.” 

In  March  was  exhibited  a collection  of  the  best  pictures 
from  old  masters  which  America  had  seen.  The  gallery  of 
the  American  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  was  hired  by  a man  of 
the  name  of  Abrams,  who  fitted  it  up  admirably  for  the  occa- 
sion. This  man  (as  I was  informed  by  an  intelligent  English 
gentleman,  an  amateur  painter)  was  a picture  dealer  and 
cleaner  in  London  ; and  having,  in  conjunction  with  another 
dealer,  of  the  name  of  Wilmot,  collected  a number  of  good 
pictures,  under  various  pretences,  they  concerted  the  scheme 
of  flying  with  them  to  New  York.  Here  they  were  stopped, 
and  Abrams  imprisoned.  Wilmot,  under  the  name  of  Ward, 
escaped  the  catchpoles,  and  embarked  for  Liverpool  in  the 

39 


306 


A letter  from  above. 

same  vessel  with  my  informant ; and  contrived,  by  cards  and 
betting  with  the  passengers,  to  gain  upwards  of  three  hundred 
guineas.  On  his  arrival  he  was  recognised  before  he  could 
reach  the  great  hiding  place,  London,  and  seized  by  those  he 
had  defrauded.  Abrams  made  some  compromise,  by  which 
he  was  permitted  to  exhibit  the  pictures  for  the  benefit  of  the 
proprietors ; and  he  did  it  adroitly,  with  an  impudence  wor- 
thy of  a picture  dealer. 

Mr.  Morse,  the  President  of  the  National  Academy  of  De- 
sign, having  gone  to  Italy,  I,  as  vice  president,  exerted  myself 
for  the  institution  : and  on  returning  from  a council  meeting, 
in  the  evening,  my  wife  put  in  my  hand  a letter  which  she,  by 
accidentally  answering  a knock  at  the  door,  had  received  from 
a man  who  gave  it  and  hastily  departed.  That  no  hand  writ- 
ing might  be  recognised,  the  whole  was  in  imitation  of  printed 
letters.  A note  of  the  Bank  of  America  for  one  hundred  dol- 
lars was  enclosed.  The  letter  was  as  follows  : — 

u Win.  Dunlap,  Esq. 

“ My  dear  Dunlap — During  the  high  wind  on 
Sunday  the  enclosed  100  dollar  bill  was  blown  up  here  from 
your  Bank  Note  World.  As  we  have  every  thing  here 
without  money  and  without  price,  several  of  your  old  friends 
thought  it  best  to  send  it  down  to  you.  I accordingly  inclose 
it,  hoping  you  will  receive  it  as  coming  from  above. 

“ Your  friend  before  and  after  death, 

“ Chas.  B.  Brown.” 

I never  have  had  suspicion  or  hint  of  the  author  or  authors 
of  this  delicate  communication  ; but  I hope,  if  any  of  the 
parties  see  this  book,  they  will  accept  my  thanks  and  assuran- 
ces, that  the  God-send  was  appropriated  as  it  was  intended. 

On  the  1st  of  April  I visited  Philadelphia,  to  solicit  pictures 
for  the  exhibition  of  the  National  Academy.  I of  course  saw 
all  the  painters  and  obtained  a number  of  pictures.  I called  to 
see  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Darley,  and  found  them  in  the  house  where 
I had  passed  so  many  happy  hours  with  Charles  Brockden 
Brown,  his  wife,  children  and  friends. 

Shortly  after  returning  home  I received  an  invitation  to 
come  to  Castleton,  Vermont,  and  paint  ten  portraits,  which 
occasioned  my  going  to  that  pleasant  village  again,  and  pass- 
ing the  summer  with  Solomon  Foote,  Esq.  principal  of  the 
high  school,  then  just  opened. 

My  friend  S.  S.  Conant  was  at  this  time  at  Clarendon 
Springs,  in  the  hope  of  help  for  his  lameness.  I visited  him 
on  the  4th  of  July  ; and  passing  the  night  there,  walked  next 
day  to  Rutland.  In  the  evening  I wralked  to  West  Rutland, 
and  sleeping  there,  returned  by  day-break  in  the  stage  to  Cas- 


307 


Sick  among  kind  strangers. 

tleton,  w here  I entered  the  High  School,  (the  door  on  the 
latch,  as  is  the  case  all  through  the  place)  and  went  to  bed  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  the  family. 

In  August,  by  invitation  1 went  to  Rutland,  and  painted 
some  portraits.  I remember  the  place  and  its  pleasant  walks 
with  pleasure  ; and  with  still  more,  General  Williams  and  his 
family.  Having  an  invitation  from  Mr.  Ira  Smith,  of  Orwell, 
and  knowing  it  was  near  a landing  place  on  Lake  Champlain, 
from  which  I could  readily  embark,  by  steam-boat,  for  White- 
hall, I proceeded  thither  and  painted  several  portraits  : but  my 
old  enemy,  my  chronic  disease,  which  had  given  me  warnings 
of  late,  came  upon  me  with  deadly  force,  and  I was  confined 
to  my  bed,  with  nurses  and  sitters-up,  for  sixteen  days.  Far 
from  my  family  and  among  strangers,  in  a country  tavern, 
my  situation  would  appear  hard  ; but  I found  kind  people,  a 
most  kind  nurse  in  the  sister  of  the  landlady,  Adeline  Wilson, 
to  whom  and  to  Doctor  Woodward,  of  Castleton,  who  came 
to  me  and  directed  the  practice  of  a younger  physician,  Dr. 
Gale,  1 shall  with  life  retain  gratitude.  My  situation  was 
such,  that  it  was  suggested  I should  send  for  my  wife  ; but 
Woodward  told  me  not  to  do  it,  as  it  would  give  her  anxiety 
and  trouble,  cause  unnecessary  expense,  and  that,  although  I 
was  a very  sick  man,  I should  be  up  again  in  about  the  time, 
at  which  it  really  so  occurred.  I wrote  to  my  wife  only  to 
inform  her  of  my  convalescence.  In  October  I was  able  to 
finish  the  portraits  begun  and  two  more,  making  eight,  (one 
a present  to  my  landlord)  and  on  the  21  st  of  October  I com- 
menced my  homeward  journey,  and  soon  was  happily  in  the 
midst  of  my  family. 

During  the  winter  of  1830-1,  I painted  afew  portraits,  and  a 
hasty  picture  of  the  “ Attack  on  the  Louvre,”  in  the  Parisian 
revolution  of  July  1830.  It  w7as  exhibited,  but  without  suc- 
cess. I wrote  and  delivered  lectures  on  historical  composition 
in  painting  to  the  students  of  the  National  Academy.  On  the 
anniversary  of  my  birth  I wrote  : “ February  19th,  1831 — I 
am  this  day  sixty-five  years  of  age.  I am  in  health,  having 
no  return  of  my  disease  since  the  attack  at  Orwell,  in  Septem- 
ber last.  I hope  I am  better  ; and  I am  thankful  to  God  for 
great  blessings.  Richer  I am  not,  but  hope  supports  me.  I 
labour  daily,  rising  between  six  and  seven.”  I painted  on  the 
Louvre  and  some  portraits  during  the  winter,  and  on  the  21st 
of  April  delivered  an  address  to  the  students  on  distributing 
premiums,  which  was  published  by  the  academy.  It  made 
some  impression,  and  prompted  letters  to  me  from  various  parts 
of  the  Union  and  from  Furope,  particularly  a very  welcome 
one  from  J.  Fennimore  Cooper,  from  Paris.  In  the  summer 


308 


Burlington , Vermont. 

of  1831  I painted  some  portraits,  and  repainted  a great  part 
of  the  Bearing  of  the  Cross. 

Few  persons  who  have  lived  to  old  age  have  experienced  so 
many  and  so  violent  attacks  of  disease.  During  that  period 
of  my  life  which  is  not  introduced  in  this  work,  when  I was 
engaged  for  many  years  in  directing  the  New-York  theatre 
and  writing  plays,  I passed  my  summers  at  my  native  place, 
Perth  Amboy,  and  seldom  a year  passed  without  illness  ; some- 
times bilious  fever  or  remittents,  and  more  than  once  with  ex-* 
treme  danger  to  life. 

From  the  25th  of  June  to  the  9th  of  July  1831,  I was  in 
great  distress  from  a recurrence  of  my  chronic  complaint:  on 
the  1st  of  July  my  friend  Dr.  McLean  brought  Dr.  Mott  to 
me,  who  performed  that  which  in  my  case  Post  had  declared 
impossible.  From  that  time  l recovered,  and,  to  dismiss  the 
subject,  I remained  in  good  health  until  the  autumn  of  1833, 
when  I was  much  distressed  and  continued  so  until  February 
1834,  in  which  month  Dr.  Mott  performed  the  operation  of 
lithotomy,  which  was  attended  with  difficulties  very  unusual ; 
and  I write  at  this  moment,  June  1834,  under  the  afflictions  of 
pain  and  weakness  caused  by  the  disease.  My  friends,  Fran- 
cis and  McLean,  have  watched  over  me  with  the  attention  of 
affectionate  brothers,  and  to  them  and  the  skilful  operator  I 
must  remain  grateful  for  life  and  a portion  of  health  and  ease, 
as  long  as  life  is  lent  me.  But  even  their  skill  and  attention 
would  have  availed  little  but  for  unwearied  nursing  of  my  wife 
and  daughter.  I have  had,  and  have,  many  blessings;  but 
those  flowing  from  my  family  are  the  most  precious. 

In  August  1831  I was  strong  enough  to  paint  several  por- 
traits, and  a project  was  agitated  of  publishing  a quarterly  re- 
view of  fine  arts  in  every  part  of  the  world — to  that  project, 
perhaps,  it  being  given  up,  is  owing  the  present  work.  At 
this  time  a number  of  Ward’s  pictures  were  sent  to  New-York 
for  exhibition — *a  cattle  piece  and  several  others  very  good ; 
but  the  adventure  sunk  a great  sum  of  money.  Mr.  West’s 
“ Christ’s  Rejected”  was  put  up  for  exhibition  after  having 
been  eminently  successful  throughout  the  Union  ; but  a repe- 
tition did  not  answer  in  New-York.  Nothing  but  novelty  at- 
tracts our  people. 

Having  had  an  invitation  to  come  to  Burlington,  Vermont, 
when  at  Castleton,  I,  finding  myself  pressed  for  money,  left  home 
on  the  8th  of  September,  and  after  a few  hours  spent  with  my 
friends  in  Albany,  passed  on  the  old  track  to  Whitehall,  and 
up  the  lake  to  the  very  pretty  town  I aimed  at.  As  a se- 
cond string  to  my  bow,  I ordered  on  my  picture  of  “ Calvary.” 


Plattsburg  and  Doctor  S.  Beaumont.  309 

But  all  would  not  do  at  promising  Burlington.  I had  no  pic- 
tures to  paint,  and  the  exhibition  yielded  very  little  ; however, 
during  its  exhibition,  I crossed  the  lake  to  the  rough  and  un- 
promising Plattsburg,  where  I found  warm  friends,  portraits  to 
paint,  and,  having  removed  my  picture  thither,  a profitable 
exhibition. 

I put  up  at  a tavern  and  was  well  treated,  but  my  home  was 
at  Dr.  Samuel  Beaumont’s.  His  wife  was  Miss  Charlotte 
Taylor  and  my  townswoman,  and  he  has  acted  like  a son  or 
brother.  I remained  at  Plattsburg  until  November  2d  ; then 
embarked  on  my  return  voyage  with  impressions  of  esteem  for 
many  left  behind  me,  and  none  more  than  for  Moss  Kent, 
Esq.  brother  to  my  old  friend  the  ex-chancellor.  On  the  6th 
of  November  I found  myself  at  home  with  my  family. 

Mr.  Gouverneur  Kemble  had  for  some  time  past  the  collection 
of  pictures  bought  in  Spain  by  the  late  Richard  Meade,  Esq. 
exhibited  at  Clinton  Hall,  but  with  loss.  Doctor  Hosack  has 
supported  the  American  Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  by  erecting  a 
very  convenient  building  in  Barclay-street,  with  good  rooms 
for  exhibition  and  for  the  casts. 

This  winter  of  1831—2,  I was  requested  to  give  two  lectures 
on  the  fine  arts,  in  the  Clinton  Hall  lecture  room,  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  Mercantile  Library  Association.  I complied.  This 
addressing  large  assemblies  of  people  was  anew  business  to  me; 
and  it  is  rather  late  at  sixty-five  or  sixty-six  years  of  age  to  be- 
gin to  play  the  orator.  I believe  that  I did  not  essentially  fail 
in  what  was  expected  from  me.  I at  this  time  lectured  to  the 
students  of  the  National  Academy.  My  prospects  as  to  re- 
ceipts and  the  necessary  means  of  living  were  this  winter  very 
gloomy,  and  my  lecturing  suggested  the  notion  of  putting  up 
all  my  pictures  in  the  Clinton  gallery  and  lecturing  on  them. 
I carried  this  into  effect  and  gained  by  the  exertion.  My  his- 
tory of  the  American  Theatre  was  now  nearly  ready  for  pub- 
lication. Towards  spring  1 had  some  portraits  to  paint  at  ge- 
nerous prices. 

In  the  month  of  April  1832,  I removed  all  my  pictures  to  a 
gallery,  the  corner  of  Anthony-street,  Broadway,  and  had  a 
painting  room  adjoining.  The  profits  of  exhibition  were  to 
be  shared  with  the  owner  of  the  building,  but  there  were  none, 
owing  principally  to  the  prevalence  of  Asiatic  cholera,  and 
partly  to  the  improper  occupation  of  the  lower  part  of  the 
house.  During  the  summer  I attended  daily  at  this  place, 
although  the  neighbourhood  was  the  seat  of  disease.  Happily 
I had  removed  my  family  from  that  region  to  a distant  and 
more  airy  situation  in  the  Sixth  Avenue. 


310 


Electioneering  and  betting. 

In  October,  about  the  time  of  publishing  my  History  of  the 
American  Theatre,  I visited  Albany  for  a few  clays,  and  on  my 
return  for  the  first  time  stopt  at  West  Point,  but  was  disap- 
pointed in  my  views  (which  were  to  see  the  old  and  new  objects 
worthy  of  attention)  by  incessant  hard  rain.  I returned  home, 
and  in  a few  days  went  to  Philadelphia.  It  happened  to  be 
election  time,  and  I find  this  entry  in  my  journal:  “ Sunday, 
October  14th — My  inn  is  thronged  with  what  are  called  poli- 
ticians ; men  who  gamble  by  betting  on  elections,  and  men 
seeking — or  seeking  to  keep — offices.  Swearing,  drinking 
and  wagering  was  the  order  of  the  day.  It  is  a melancholy 
and  degrading  picture.”  On  the  16th  I returned  home. 

In  November,  my  History  of  the  American  Theatre  having 
been  published,  I received  letters  of  compliment  from  every 
part  of  the  United  States,  and  published  proposals  for  the 
work  I now  write  on. 

About  the  last  of  December,  Mr.  Gimbrede  the  teacher  of 
drawing  at  West  Point  died,  and  my  friends  urged  an  appli- 
cation in  my  favour  as  his  successor.  The  answer  was  that 
Mr.  Leslie  was  appointed.  Mr.  Leslie  accepted  the  appoint- 
ment, and  acted  upon  it  for  a short  time. 

Tuesday,  19th  of  February  1833.  I entered  my  68th  year 
of  age.  I find  this  entry  in  my  journal. 

“ My  health  generally  good  ; my  activity  little  impaired. 
My  pecuniary  circumstances  better.  My  blessings  many,  but 
my  thankfulness  not  adequately  strong — but  I am  thankful,  and 
hope  to  be  more  and  more  so.” 

The  27th  in  the  evening  I received  the  following: — 

“ New-York,  February  27,  1833. 

Dear  Sir : — -At  a Meeting  of  the  Committee  of  the  citizens 
of  New-York,  friendly  to  literature  and  the  drama,  held  this 
evening  at  the  Shakspeare  Hotel,  it  was  unanimously  resolved 
that  ten  tickets,  seats  secured  in  Box  No.  16,  be  presented  to 
you  and  the  members  of  your  family,  for  the  benefit  to  take 
place  at  the  Park  to-morrow  evening. 

“ We  are  with  sentiments  of  esteem  and  great  respect, 

“Yours,  David  Hosack, 

“ Charles  King,  Sec.  Chairman. 

“ To  William  Dunlap,  Esq.” 

I returned  an  answer  in  the  most  respectful  manner  thank- 
ing the  committee,  but  declining  being  present  at  what  was 
called  a festival  in  my  honour. 

On  the  5th  of  March  I received  the  following  from  the  hands 
of  my  good  young  friend,  William  Sidney  M’Coun. 


Expression  of  good-will  from  my  fellow-citizens.  311 


“ New- York,  March  5,  1833. 

“ Dear  Sir : — It  has  become  my  pleasing  duty  as  the  chair- 
man of  the  committee,  appointed  by  the  citizens  of  New- 
York,  who  were  convened  to  express  their  deep  sense  of  the 
services  rendered  by  you  to  the  promotion  of  the  fine  arts, 
and  the  dramatic  literature  of  our  country,  to  inform  you 
that  a benefit  has  been  appropriated,  in  which  many  of  your 
fellow-citizens  have  had  an  opportunity  of  expressing  their 
estimate  of  those  services,  and  bearing  their  testimony  to  your 
character  as  a private  citizen.  For  the  proceeds  I refer  you 
to  the  Hon.  Wm.  T.  M’Coun,  Treasurer. 

“ Allow  me,  in  the  name  of  the  committee,  to  congratulate 
you  upon  the  success  that  has  attended  their  efforts,  and  to 
add  their  fervent  wishes  that  the  evening  of  your  life  may  be 
as  happy  as  the  former  part  of  it  has  been  usefully  and  honour- 
ably employed  in  the  advancement  of  the  cause  of  virtue. 

“ Accept,  dear  sir, 

“ The  expression  of  my  personal  regard  and  respect. 

“ David  Hosack, 

“ William  Dunlap,  Esq.”  Chaii'man 

I returned  an  answer  very  inadequate  to  my  feelings. 

The  net  proceeds  of  this  most  flattering  compliment  as  paid 
to  me  by  the  treasurer,  the  Hon.  William  T.  M’Coun,  Vice- 
Chancellor,  was  $2517  54.  In  addition  to  the  above  names, 
George  P.  Morris,  Charles  King,  Doctors  McLean  and  Francis, 
William  S.  M’Coun,  William  C.  Bryant,  and  many  other 
personal  friends,  with  still  more  of  my  fellow-citizens  personally 
unknown  to  me,  together  with  members  of  the  dramatic  corps, 
zealously  aided  this  most  honourable  testimony  and  opportune 
gift ; a gift  which  has  enabled  me  to  labour  on  the  present 
work,  and  supported  me  under  the  afflicting  disease  I have 
before  mentioned.  If  this  autobiography  appears  to  others  as 
it  does  to  me,  of  undue  length,  it  must  be  attributed  to  my 
knowing  more,  (not  of  myself,)  but  of  the  incidents  occurring 
to  me,  than  I know  of  those  which  influence  the  conduct  of 
other  men. 


312 


Joseph  Wright. 


CHAPTER  X Y I . 

Place  of  Mr.  Wright’s  birth— Carried  to  England  by  his  mother— Returns  to 
America  in  1783— Letter  from  Washington— Residence  in  New-York — Removes 
to  Philadelphia— Death  by  yellow  fever — William  Rush— Robert  Edge  Pine — 
Edward  Savage— Trenchard—M.  Houdon — His  great  reputaiion  in  Europe — 
Death— J.  P.  Malcolm — John  Dixey. 

JOSEPH  WRIGHT— 1783. 

This  gentleman  was  the  son  of  Joseph  Wright,  of  Borden- 
town,  New-Jersey,  and  Patience  Lovell  of  the  same  place,  so 
celebrated  afterwards  as  Mrs.  Wright  ihe  modeller  in  wax. 
The  subject  of  this  memoir  was  born  at  Bordentown,  on  the 
16th  of  July,  1756.  After  the  death  of  his  father,  his  mother 
about  the  year  1772,  carried  him  with  other  children  to  Lon- 
don ; she  became  famous  for  her  modelling  in  wax,  and  was 
enabled  to  give  Joseph  a good  education.  He  was  in  his  ef- 
forts to  become  a painter,  aided  by  Benjamin  West,  and  by 
Hopner,  who  married  his  sister. 

In  a letter  from  Mrs.  Hopner  to  her  mother  in  1781 , who  wTas 
then  in  Paris,  and  very  successful  in  her  wax  modelling,  she 
requests  her  not  to  write  to  Joseph  in  such  style  as  will  encou- 
rage him  to  think  that  she  will  make  a fortune  for  him  ; for  she 
says,  Joe  is  inclined  enough  already  to  be  idle,  and  that  he 
receives  the  money  from  the  wax-work  exhibition,  and  spends 
it  at  pleasure.  Joseph,  however,  before  he  left  England  had 
made  himself  a good  portrait  painter,  and  had  painted  a like- 
ness of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  afterwards  George  the  Fourth. 

In  the  winter  of  1782,  Joseph  was  placed  by  his  mother  un- 
der the  protection  of  Benjamin  Franklin  in  Paris,  and  the  fol- 
lowing letter  from  William  Temple  Franklin,  a protege  of  his 
grandfather,  shows  in  some  measure  how  the  young  painter 
was  employed  in  the  French  Capital. 

“ A Monsieur,  Monsieur  Wright, 

“ Hotel  de  York, 

“ Rue  Jacob — Fauxbourg,  St.  Germains.  Passy , Feb.  28,  1782. 

“Dear  Sir  Inclosed  are  the  directions  of  the  ladies  to 
whom  I think  you  will  do  well  to  carry,  and  show  your  per- 
formance. The  former,  Madame  de  Chauminot,  will,  I doubt 
not,  employ  you  in  taking  her  likeness,  providing  you  are  dis- 
posed and  not  exorbitant  in  your  price.  The  time  for  waiting 
upon  these  ladies  will  be  in  the  morning,  from  half  past  twelve 
to  two.  The  sooner  you  go  the  better. 

“ I am,  my  dear  sir,  yours  sincerely, 

“ W.  T.  Franklin.” 

“ Mr.  Wright.” 


Mr.  Wright  paints  the  General  <fy*  Mrs.  Washington.  313 


A passage  in  a letter  from  his  mother  to  him,  dated  in  this 
same  year,  August  16th,  no  doubt  alludes  to  the  result  of  the 
application  advised  by  the  above.  “ I am  sorry  for  your  sake 
that  the  Duchess  forgot  the  character  of  her  station,  or  her 
own  character,  in  the  affair  of  the  two  guineas.  But  1 am  so 
well  acquainted  with  the  world,  that  I am  not  disappointed. 
My  dear  son,  silence,  patience,  prude  nee,  industry,  will  put  you 
above  all  those  mean  and  little  minds,  and  teach  you  how  to 
act  when  you  become  great.” 

In  the  autumn  (October)  of  1802,  Joseph  departed  by  sea 
from  Nantz,  and  went,  or  was  driven  by  stress  of  weather  to 
port  St.  Andrew’s,  in  Spain.  He  was  shipwrecked  probably 
on  the  coast  of  Spain.  In  a ten  weeks  voyage  he  reached 
Boston,  and  wrote  almost  despondingly  to  his  mother,  having 
his  journey  south  to  New -Jersey  to  perform,  and  being  desti- 
tute of  money.  He  had  letters,  however,  both  to  Boston  and 
Rhode  Island,  and  found  his  way  to  Bordentown,  I presume 
without  difficulty.  In  the  autumn  I met  him  at  head  quarters 
at  Rocky  Hill,  near  Princeton,  to  which  place  he  brought  a let- 
ter from  Doctor  Franklin  to  Washington.  This  was  in  Octo- 
ber, 1783.  At  this  time  and  place  Mr.  Wright  painted  both 
the  General  and  Mrs.  Washington,  as  I likewise  attempted  to 
do.  Wright’s  pictures  I then  thought  very  like.  He  after- 
wards drew  a profile  of  Washington  and  etched  it,  and  it  is 
very  like. 

Congress  then  sitting  at  Princeton,  Mr.  Wright  was  employ- 
ed to  take  a mould  in  plaster  of  Paris,  from  which  a cast  might 
be  made  of  the  general’s  features,  to  be  sent  to  some  European 
sculptor,  as  a guide  for  a marble  bust  or  statue.  The  general 
submitted  to  the  irksome  task  of  laying  on  his  back,  with  his 
face  covered  with  the  wet  plaster.  What  a situation  for 
a hero  ! When  the  mask  or  mould  was  hardened,  the  artist 
took  it  off,  but  in  his  anxiety  and  trepidation,  probably  hurry- 
ing to  release  the  general  from  thraldom,  he  let  it  fall  and  it 
was  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  floor.  Washington  would  not 
carry  his  .desire  to  comply  with  the  wishes  of  congress  so  far 
as  to  undergo  another  prostration,  and  the  affair  of  a sculp- 
tured resemblance  was  deferred  until  Franklin  brought  out 
Houdon. 

In  1784,  and  probably  in  the  winter  of  1783,  Mr.  Wright  was 
in  Philadelphia,  and  there  received  the  following  letter  from 
General  Washington  after  his  retirement: 

“ Mount  Vernon,  10th  Jan.  1784. 

Sir, — When  you  have  finished  my  portrait,  which  is  intend- 
ed for  the  Count  de  Solms,  I will  thank  you  for  handing  it  to 

40 


314 


Mr.  Wright's  marriage. 

Mr.  Robert  Morris,  who  will  forward  it  to  the  Count  de 
Bruhl,  (minister  from  his  electoral  highness  of  Saxe,  at  the 
court  of  London,)  as  the  channel  pointed  out  for  the  convey- 
ance of  it. 

“ As  the  Count  de  Solms  proposes  to  honour  it  with  a place 
in  his  collection  of  military  characters,  I am  persuaded  you 
will  not  be  deficient  in  point  of  execution. 

“ Be  so  good  as  to  forward  the  cost  of  it  to  me,  and  I will 
remit  you  the  money.  Let  it  (after  Mr.  Morris  has  seen  it) 
be  carefully  packed  to  prevent  injury. 

“ With  great  esteem,  I am,  sir, 

“ Your  most  obedient  servant, 

“ Geo.  Washington.” 

Mr.  Wright. 

I copy  the  above  from  the  original  letter,  in  the  possession 
of  Mr.  Wright’s  children. 

How  long  Mr.  Wright  remained  in  Philadelphia,  at  that 
time,  1 know  not.  In  1787  he  resided  in  Queen  (now  Pearl) 
street,  New-York,  where  he  for  some  years  practised  his  pro- 
fession, having  married  Miss  Vandervoort,  the  niece  of  the 
martyr  to  liberty  and  his  country,  Colonel  Ledyard,  who  was 
murdered  at  Croton,  near  New  London,  by  the  British  officer 
to  whom  he  had  presented  his  sword  on  surrendering  the  Fort 
he  had  defended. 

Mr.  Wright  removed  from  New-York  about  the  time  con- 
gress did,  and  to  the  same  place,  Philadelphia.  His  children 
have  a picture  painted  by  him  in  Philadelphia,  representing 
in  small  full-lengths,  himself,  wife  and  three  children.  It  was 
left  unfinished,  but  the  heads  are  very  well  painted.  Among 
other  distinguished  men,  Mr.  Wright  painted  the  portrait  of 
Mr.  Madison.  I have  before  me  a note  from  Mr.  Madison  to 
the  painter,  containing  an  apology  for  not  sitting  at  an 
appointed  time,  and  fixing  another  time  if  agreeable  to  Mr. 
Wright.  He  was  a modeller  in  clay  and  practised  dye-sink- 
ing, which  last  gained  him  the  appointment,  shortly  before  his 
death,  of  dye-sinker  to  the  mint.*  The  yellow  fever  of  1793 
deprived  his  country  of  his  abilities,  he  and  his  wife  dying 
within  a few  days  of  each  other,  in  the  prime  of  life.  His 
children  (besides  the  portrait  in  the  group  above-mentioned, 
which  is  too  tall,  but  otherwise  somewhat  like)  have  a chalk 
drawing  of  his  head,  done  from  the  mirror,  which  is  more  like, 

* I have  before  me  a design  for  a cent , made  by  Mr.  Wright,  and  dated  1792. 
It  represents  an  eagle  standing  on  the  half  of  a globe,  and  holding  in  his  beak  a 
shield  with  the  thirteen  stripes.  The  reverse  had  been  drawn  on  the  same  piece 
of  paper,  and  afterwards  cut- out. 


William  Rush. 


315 


and  very  skillfully  drawn.  There  is  likewise  a head  of  him 
modelled  in  clay  by  Mr.  W.  Rush,  of  Philadelphia,  who,  I am 
told,  said  that  Wright  taught  him  to  model. 

While  Mr.  Wright  lived  inNew-York  he  accidentally  saw  a 
very  venerable  Jewish  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Simpson,  who 
wore  his  grey  beard  long,  and  was  remarkably  handsome. 
His  complexion  did  not  indicate  his  descent  from  Abraham,  it 
was  a clear  red  and  white.  Wright  with  the  enthusiasm  of  an 
artist,  and  with  an  eccentricity  peculiarly  his  own,  stepped  up 
to  the  door  of  the  house,  at  the  window  of  which  the  patri- 
arch sat,  and  knocking,  was  admitted.  He  introduced  him- 
self to  the  family,  and  begged  the  old  gentleman  to  sit  for  his 
portrait,  expressing  his  admiration  of  his  picturesque  appear- 
ance. The  request  was  complied  with,  and  at  the  distance  of 
five-and-forty  years,  I recollect  with  pleasure  the  beautiful 
representation  he  made  of  the  venerable  Israelite.  I am  told 
that  Mr.  Simpson,  the  grandson,  living  at  Yonkers , possesses 
this  picture  in  perfect  preservation. 

WILLIAM  RUSH— 1783. 

This  intelligent  and  very  pleasant  old  gentleman  (for  such 
he  was  when  I knew  him)  was  born  in  Philadelphia  in  the 
year  1757.  He  commenced  modelling  in  clay  about  the 
period  at  which  I introduce  him  to  the  reader.  His  perform- 
ances are  all  in  wood  and  clay — he  never  worked  any  in  mar- 
ble. The  first  figure  he  carved  was  at  about  the  third  year  of 
his  apprenticeship,  which  far  outstripped  his  master. 

My  correspondent  says,  “ His  time  would  never  permit,  or 
he  would  have  attempted  marble.  He  used  to  say  it  was 
immaterial  what  the  substance  was,  the  artist  must  see  dis- 
tinctly the  figure  in  the  block,  and  removing  the  surface  was 
merely  mechanical.  When  in  a hurry  he  used  to  hire  a 
wood-chopper,  and  stand  by  and  give  directions  where  to  cut, 
by  this  means  he  facilitated  work  with  little  labour  to  himself. 
The  crucifixes  in  the  St.  Augustine  and  St.  Mary’s  Catholic 
churches,  the  Water  Nymph  at  “Fair  Mount,”  the  figures  in 
front  of  the  theatre,  with  the  statue  of  Washington  in  the  State 
House,  are  his  works  in  Philadelphia.  It  was  always  a source 
of  regret  that  he  had  so  little  time  spared  him  from  his  occupa- 
tion in  ship-carving  where  he  succeeded  so  admirably,  especially 
in  his  Indian  figures.  He  died  January  17th,  1833,  aged  76.” 

Mr.  Rush  was  a coadjutor  in  1789,  with  Charles  Wilson 
Peale  and  others,  in  attempting  to  institute  an  Academy  of 
Fine  Arts  in  Philadelphia. 


316 


Robert  Edge  Pine . 


In  1812  Mr.  Rush  exhibited  several  busts  and  figures  at  the 
Pennsylvania  Academy  of  Fine  Arts:  these  were  the  bust  of 
Linnaeus — bust  of  William  Bartram — bust  of  Rev.  H.  Muh- 
lenburg — figures  of  Exhortation,  Praise,  and  a Cherubim. 

Mr.  Rush  was  observing  in  his  study  of  the  human  figure, 
“ When  1 see  my  boys  bungling  in  the  carving  a hand,  I tell 
them  look  at  your  own  hands — place  them  in  the  same  posi- 
tion— imitate  them  and  you  must  be  right.  You  always  have 
the  model  at  handy  These  were  nearly  his  words  in  a con- 
versation with  me  some  years  ago. 

ROBERT  EDGE  PINE— 1783, 

Came  to  America  in  the  year  1783,  upon  a speculation  similar 
to  that  which  John  Trumbull  happily  commenced  a short  time 
after.  Pine’s  very  rational  scheme  was,  to  paint  portraits  of 
the  heroes  and  patriots  of  the  American  Revolution,  and  com- 
bine them  in  historical  pictures  of  the  great  events  which  had 
made  the  United  States  an  independent  nation. 

Mr.  Pine  had  proved  himself  an  historical  painter  in  Eng- 
land by  several  compositions  of  merit,  some  of  which  are  ren- 
dered familiar  to  the  world  by  good  engravings.  Why  Allen 
Cunningham  has  not  enrolled  him  in  his  list  of  eminent  British 
painters  must  be  left  to  conjecture  : that  he  is  more  entitled  to 
such  distinction  than  Sir  George  Beaumont,  is  evident  from 
Cunningham’s  own  showing,  in  the  biography  of  the  accom- 
plished, liberal,  and  amiable  knight.  He  was  established  in 
London  as  early  as  1761-2.  Mortimer,  after  leaving  Hud- 
son, with  whom  he  had  studied  a short  time,  became  a student 
with  Pine. 

1 learn  from  “ Edwards’  Anecdotes  of  Painters,”  that  “ Mr. 
Pine  was  born  in  London.  He  was  the  son  of  Mr.  John  Pine 
the  engraver,  who  executed  and  published  the  elegant  edition 
of  Horace,  the  whole  of  which  is  engraved.  Robert  Edge 
Pine  chiefly  practised  as  a portrait  painter,  and  was  consider- 
ed as  among  the  best  colourists  of  his  time.  He  resided  sev- 
eral years  in  St.  Martin’s-lane,  in  the  large  mansion  opposite 
to  New-street,  Covent  Garden. 

“In  the  year  ! 760  he  produced  a picture,  as  candidate  for  the 
premium  then  offered  by  the  Society  for  the  Encouragement 
of  Arts,  &c.  for  the  best  historical  picture  painted  in  oil  col- 
ours ; the  figures  to  be  as  large  as  life,  and  the  subject  to  be 
taken  From  English  history.  Mr.  Pine  selected  the  Surrender 
of  Calais, # and  obtained  the  first  prize  of  one  hundred  guineas. 


* The  point  of  time  represented  in  the  picture  is  the  approach  of  Eustace  de  St. 
Pierre  with  his  five  townsmen  to  Edward  III.  while  his  Queen  Philippa  kneels 
and  intercedes  for  them. 


317 


His  historical  and  other  paintings. 

— This  was  the  first  time  that  the  Society  offered  this  libera] 
stimulus  to  the  exertions  of  the  British  artists. 

“ In  1762,  he  again  offered  a picture,  as  candidate  for  the 
similar  premium,  and  obtained  the  first  prize  ; the  subject, 
“ Canute  on  the  sea-shore,  reproving  his  courtiers  for  their 
flattery.”  At  the  same  time  his  former  pupil,  Mr.  Mortimer, 
obtained  the  second  premium.  West  arrived  in  London  in 
1763,  and  took  precedence  of  all  the  English  historical 
painters. 

“ In  the  year  1772,  upon  the  death  of  his  brother  Simon, 
Pine  went  to  Bath,  and  staid  there  till  1779.  He  returned 
to  London  in  the  early  part  of  1782,  and  made  an  exhibition 
at  the  Great  Room,  Spring  Gardens,  of  a collection  of  pic- 
tures painted  by  himself;  the  subjects  taken  from  various 
scenes  in  Shakespeare  ; but  the  exhibition  did  not  answer  his 
expectations.  It  must  be  observed,  that  whatever  merit  those 
works  might  possess  in  their  colouring  and  composition,  his 
drawing  in  general  was  feeble  in  the  extreme,  as  may  be  seen 
by  the  prints  which  were  engraved  after  some  of  the  pictures. 

“The  peace  of  1783  opened  a new  field  for  Pine  ; and  as  he 
did  not  meet  with  that  employment  he  wished  for  in  London, 
he  quitted  England  and  went  to  America.* 

“The  following  maybe  considered  among  his  best  pictures  : 
— A whole-length  portrait  of  his  late  Majesty  George  IT. 
painted  from  memory. — A whole-length  portrait  of  the  late 
Duke  of  Northumberland,  in  the  committee  room  of  the  Mid- 
dlesex Hospital,  in  which  his  grace  is  represented  as  laying 
the  first  stone  of  that  building.  His  picture  of  the  Surrender 
of  Calais  is  in  the  Town-hall  of  Newbury.  It  was  bought  of 
the  artist  by  the  corporation  ; and  the  print  which  was  en- 
graved from  it,  is  dedicated  to  them  by  Mr.  Pine.” 

He  took  up  his  abode  in  Philadelphia,  having  brought  his 
family  with  him,  and  resided  at  the  corner  of  High  and  Sixth 
streets.  The  following  is  part  of  a letter  relative  to  him,  from 
the  Hon.  Joseph  Hopkinson,  of  Philadelphia,  received  May 
6th,  1833.— 

“ I remember  his  arrival  in  this  country  ; he  brought  letters 
of  introduction  to  my  father,  whose  portrait  wras  the  first  he 
painted  in  America.  It  is  now  in  my  possession,  and  is  a 
very  fine  one  : it  bears  the  date  of  1785,  and  is  now  as  fresh 
in  colour  as  it  was  on  the  day  it  was  painted.  Pine  came  to 


* Mr.  Pine’s  turn  of  mind  and  political  feelings  may  be  seen  by  his  painting 
several  of  the  popular  patriots  of  the  day,  from  which  prints  were  engraved  and 
published.  Among  others  is  one  of  John  Wilkes,  Esq.  with  the  following  inscrip- 
tion “ Patricius  Pine  humanarum  figurarutn  pictor  pinxit.” 


318 


Letter  from  Hon.  Joseph  Hopkinson. 

this  country  in  the  preceding  year.  His  particular  object  was, 
to  paint  the  distinguished  persons  and  events  of  our  Revolu- 
tion ; but  we  were  too  young  to  give  encouragement  or  pat- 
ronage to  historical  pictures — and  he  took  to  portraits  ; which 
his  wife  also  painted,  and  taught  the  art  in  this  city.  Robert 
Morris,  who  patronized  him,  built  a house  in  Eighth-street, 
now  standing,  suitable  to  his  objects.  He  died  here,  I think, 
of  an  apoplexy,  but  do  not  find  in  what  year.  He  brought  a 
high  reputation  here — was  king’s  painter  ; and  I have  seen 
engravings  from  several  of  his  pictures,  particularly  ofGarrick. 
I remember  a large  picture  in  his  gallery,  of  Medea  murdering 
her  children,  and  several  others,  some  from  Shakespeare. — 
Prospero  and  Miranda,  in  the  Tempest,  I particularly  recol- 
lect. Many  of  his  pictures  are  scattered  about  in  Virginia, 
where  he  went  occasionally  to  paint  portraits.  He  was  a very 
small  man — morbidly  irritable.  His  wife  and  daughters  were 
also  very  diminutive;  they  were  indeed  a family  of  pigmies. 
After  his  death  his  family  went  back  to  Europe,  and  his  pic- 
tures were  sold  by  public  sale.  Many  of  them  were  bought 
and  taken  to  Boston  by  a person  whose  name  I forget,  (I 
think  it  was  Bowen)  who  kept  a museum  there.  This,  I think, 
was  about  the  year  1793  ; and  of  course  his  death  was  ante- 
cedent to  that  time,  but  how  long  I cannot  say,  His  widow 
and  daughters  kept  a school  after  his  death.  I believe  he 
died  before  my  father,  which  was  in  the  spring  of  1791,  and 
that  the  school  was  not  opened  till  after  his  death.  This  is 
all  the  information  now  in  my  recollection.  I think,  by  ma- 
king some  inquiry  I may  collect  something  more  ; in  which 
ase  I will  communicate  it  to  you. 

“ Yours,  &c.  Jos.  Hopkinson. 

“ P.  S.  He  brought  with  him  a plaster  cast  of  the  Venus 
de  Medicis,  which  was  kept  shut  up  in  a case , and  only  shown 
to  persons  who  particularly  wished  to  see  it ; as  the  manners 
of  our  country,  at  that  time,  would  not  tolerate  a public  ex- 
hibition of  such  a figure.  This  fact  shows  our  progress  in 
civilization  and  the  arts.” 

Our  people  now  flock  to  see  the  naked  display  of  a Pa- 
risian hired  model  for  the  painter’s  study,  and  an  English 
prostitute  in  the  most  voluptuous  attitude,  without  a shade  of 
covering,  enticing  the  man  to  sin  ; a perfect  Venus  and  Ado- 
nis, under  the  names  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  called  “ a moral 
picture.” 

The  paintings  mentioned  by  Judge  Hopkinson,  as  being 
removed  to  Boston,  were  all  destroyed  by  fire,  in  a conflagra- 


319 


Portraits  in  existence , by  Pine. 

tion  of  Bowen’s  Museum  : but  they  had  the  honour,  with 
Smybert’s  copy  of  Cardinal  Bentivoglio,  of  giving  the  first 
lessons  in  colouring  to  the  greatest  colourist  this  country  has 
produced.  Mr.  Allston  has  said,  “ In  the  colouring  of  figures 
the  pictures  of  Pine,  in  the  Columbian  Museum  in  Boston, 
were  my  first  masters.  Pine  had  certainly,  as  far  as  I can 
recollect,  considerable  merit  in  colour.” 

The  world  can  now  form  an  estimate  of  the  talents  and  ac- 
quirements of  Pine  only  from  the  engravings  published  of  his 
works,  and  the  portraits  of  eminent  men  of  our  country  still 
remaining  among  us.  The  former  place  him  in  a high  rank, 
though  not  the  highest,  among  modern  artists,  for  composi- 
tion ; and  the  latter  give  him  a still  superior  station  among 
the  portrait  painters.  The  portraits  of  Francis  Hopkinson, 
in  the  possession  of  his  son,  and  of  Doctor  Johnson,  President 
of  Columbia  College,  in  the  collection  of  his  grandson,  Gulian 
C.  Verplanck,  are  specimens  of  talent  for  the  delineation  of 
character  of  a high  order  ; and  for  colouring,  much  beyond 
any  of  the  artists,  his  cotemporaries  in  this  country,  Stuart 
alone  excepted. 

Robert  Gilmor,  Esq.  of  Baltimore,  in  answer  to  inquiries 
respecting  our  early  artists,  says,  “ Chas.  W.  Peale  and  Robt. 
Edge  Pine  were  the  earliest  painters  I recollect  in  Baltimore, 
and  there  are  numbers  of  portraits  by  both  here.  Mrs.  Caton 
has  the  Carroll  Family,  by  Pine,  painted  at  Annapolis  ; in 
which  full-lengths  of  C.  Carroll  of  Carrollton,  his  son  Charles, 
herself  and  her  sister,  Mrs.  Harper,  are  painted.  Mr.  Patter- 
son and  Mr.  Robert  Smith  have  large  family  groups,  by  Pine 
also. 

The  Hon.  Francis  Hopkinson,  whose  portrait  Pine  had 
painted  with  perfect  success,*  wrote  to  General  Washington, 
explaining  the  design  Pine  had  in  view  of  collecting  portraits 
for  historical  pictures  of  the  events  of  the  Revolution,  and  re- 
questing the  general  to  forward  the  wishes  of  the  artist,  by  sit- 
ting to  him  : and  Washington  wrote  the  following  letter  to 
Hopkinson,  in  reply  : — 

“ Mount  Vernon,  16th  May,  1785. 

“ Dear  sir — 1 In  for  a penny  in  for  a pound’  is  an  old  adage. 

I am  so  hacknied  to  the  touches  of  the  painter’s  pencil,  that  I 
am  now  altogether  at  their  beck,  and  sit  like  Patience  on  a 
monument,  whilst  they  delineate  the  features  of  my  face.  It  is 


* An  engraving  from  this  portrait,  by  Heath,  (or  rather,  from  a copy  of  it  sent 
to  England)  is  in  Delaplaine’s  gallery  of  portraits  of  eminent  men,  but  the  cha- 
racter is  lost. 


320  Letter  from  Washington. 

a proof,  among  many  others,  of  what  habit  and  custom  may 
effect.  At  first  I was  impatient  at  the  request,  and  as  restive 
under  the  operation  as  a colt  is  of  the  saddle.  The  next  time 
1 submitted  very  reluctantly,  but  with  fewer  flounces:  now, 
no  dray  moves  more  readily  to  the  drill,  than  I to  the  painter’s 
chair.  It  may  easily  be  conceived,  therefore,  that  I yielded  a 
ready  acquiescence  to  your  request  and  to  the  views  of  Mr. 
Pine.* 

“ Letters  from  England  recommendatory  of  this  gentleman 
came  to  my  hands  previous  to  his  arrival  in  America — not  only 
as  an  artist  of  acknowledged  eminence,  but  as  one  who  has  dis- 
covered a friendly  disposition  towards  this  country — for  which 
it  seems  he  had  been  marked. 

“ It  gave  me  pleasure  to  hear  from  you — I shall  always  feel 
an  interest  in  your  happiness — and  with  Mrs.  Washington’s 
compliments  and  best  wishes,  joined  to  my  own,  for  Mrs.  Hop- 
kinson  and  yourself, 

“ I am,  dear  sir, 

“ Your  obedient  and  affectionate  humble  servant, 

“ George  Washington.” 

It  would  appear  by  the  following  notification,  that  Mr.  Pine 
was  dead  before  the  18th  of  April,  1789. 

“ Kingston,  Jamaica,  April  18,  1789. 

“ A very  capital  painting  representing  the  quarter-deck  of 
the  Formidable,  on  the  memorable  12th  of  April,  1782,  with 
whole-length  figures,  large  as  life,  of  Lord  Rodney,  Sir 
Charles  Douglas,  Lord  Cranston,  and  other  British  worthies, 
was  exhibited  to  the  British  Club,  and  a handsome  subscrip- 
tion immediately  commenced  to  purchase  it.  This  piece  is 
the  production  of  an  American  artist,  Mr.  Pine,  lately  de- 
ceased. The  price  is  200  guineas.” 

Therefore  we  see  that  Mr.  Pine  was  denied  time  to  make 
the  collection  of  portraits  necessary  for  his  great  undertaking. 
This  agrees  with  the  Hon.  Jud£e  Hopkinson’s  supposition 
that  he  died  before  1791,  the  date  of  the  decease  of  the  Hon. 
Francis  Hopkinson. 

Edwards  says,  that  he  died  in  1790,  leaving  a widow  and 
some  daughters,  who  returned  to  England. 


* The  portrait  painted  at  this  time  of  Washington,  by  Mr.  Pine,  (or  a copy  of 
it  by  his  hand)  was  found  many  years  after  in  Canada,  and  purchased  by  Henry 
Brevoort,  Esq. 


Savage,  Trenchard. 


321 


EDWARD  SAVAGE— 1784. 

Mr.  Savage,  I believe,  was  a native  of  one  of  theNew-Eng- 
land  states.  He  was  painting  in  New-York  in  1789  ; and  had 
previously  been  living  in  Philadelphia.  He  would  not  be 
worth  notice  as  an  artist  but  as  connected  with  others.  He 
removed  to  Philadelphia,  and  there  painted  and  pretended  to 
engrave.  The  father  of  John  Wesley  Jarvis,  put  the  boy,  his 
son,  to  Savage,  to  learn  engraving ; and  Savage,  removing 
again  to  New-York,  Jarvis,  as  his  apprentice,  came  with  him, 
as  did  David  Edwin,  the  celebrated  engraver,  whom  he  en- 
gaged in  his  employ.  This  was  in  1798.  Savage  published 
prints  from  his  own  wretched  pictures,  mended  and  engraved 
by  Edwin,  but  inscribed  with  Savage’s  name  as  engraver. 
Edwin,  being  asked  why  he  did  not  put  his  name  to  his  work, 
by  one  who  knew  Savage  could  do  nothing  with  the  tool  or 
graver,  replied,  “ I do  not  wish  the  credit  which  is  to  be  de- 
rived from  pictures  of  Mr.  Savage’s  composition.”  “ 1 soon 
found,”  said  Jarvis,  “ that  I could  paint  better  than  my  master, 
and  engrave  ten  times  better.” 

After  Jarvis  left  him,  he  had  as  pupils  Charles  B.  King 
and  John  Crawley.  He  had  a kind  of  museum  and  picture- 
gallery  in  Greenwich-street,  in  a building  once  used  as  a cir- 
cus. He  published  the  “ Washington  Family,”  engraved  by 
Edwin,  who  made  it  tolerable,  and  perhaps  Jarvis  helped. 
Jarvis  has  said,  “ I assisted  in  engraving  it — I printed  it,  and 
carried  it  about  for  sale.”  Before  he  engaged  Edwin  he  had 
visited  London,  and  brought  out  a man  whom  he  engaged  to 
engrave  for  him  at  half  a guinea  a week,  Savage  paying  his 
passage.  This  is  similar  to  some  of  the  early  engagements 
made  by  managers  with  actors,  who  found,  after  their  arrival 
in  America,  that  their  weekly  salary  would  not  pay  their  board 
and  lodging. 


TRENCHARD— 1785, 

Engraved  in  Philadelphia  about  this  time.  He  was  a pu- 
pil of  Smithers.  “ He  tried,”  says  Lawson,  “ to  make  de- 
signs and  engravings  for  a magazine,  but  they  were  poor 
scratchy  things,  as  were  all  the  rest  of  his  works.”  He  was  the 
master  of  Thakara  and  Valance,  and  taught  what  he  knew  to 
his  son  Edward  Trenchard,  hereafter  mentioned. 


41 


322 


Houdorts  great  statue  of  Saint  Br  uno. 


M.  HOUDON — 1785. 

M.  Houdon  was  born  at  Versailles  in  1741.  The  celebrat- 
ed sculptors  of  France  immediately  preceding  him  were  Coise- 
voix,  Vancleve,  Lepautre,  Legros,  the  two  Coustons,  and 
Bouchardon.  The  works  of  these  masters,  placed  under  the 
eyes  of  the  young  man,  had  their  influence  in  forming  his  taste, 
even  without  his  being  conscious  of  the  aid  he  received  from 
them.  These  masters  were  in  fact  the  only  instructors  of 
Houdon  until  he  had,  by  his  untutored  efforts,  gained  admis- 
sion into  the  academy ; and  he  continued  his  studies  without 
placing  himself  under  the  formal  direction  of  any  professor. 
By  his  diligence  he  progressively  advanced  to  skill,  until  he 
gained  the  great  prize  for  sculpture  in  1760,  at  the  age  of 
nineteen. 

Pigale,  the  successor  of  Bouchardon,  encouraged  the  young 
man  by  his  advice,  but  we  see  by  the  opposite  mode  in  which 
these  artists  afterwards  treated  the  same  subject,  (the  statue  of 
Voltaire)  that  the  younger  had  a genius  which  would  not  sub- 
mit to  copy  the  errors  of  his  friend’s  style.  He  struck  out  a 
path  for  himself  and  followed  it. 

Houdon  had  the  advantage  of  a ten  year’s  residence  in 
Rome  ; and  left  in  the  porch  of  the  church  of  the  Chartreux 
the  beautiful  statue  of  St.  Bruno,  in  marble,  the  product  of  his 
chisel.  This  statue  is  said  to  be  the  perfect  representation  of 
humility,  in  the  costume  of  the  pious  Cenobite.  Pope  Clement 
the  fourteenth  said  of  it,  “ It  would  speak,  if  the  rules  of  the 
order  had  not  enjoined  silence.” 

On  returning  to  France  M.  Houdon  introduced  a style, 
which,  although  not  of  the  highest  order,  avoided  the  servility 
of  imitation,  and  was  free  from  the  constraint  of  those  leading- 
strings  of  art  which  have  been  called  the  Academic  manner. 

His  Morpheus  gained  him  the  honours  of  the  academy,  and 
he  shortly  after  presented  to  all  students  of  the  arts  of  design 
his  invaluable  anatomical  statue — “ l’ecorche.”  This  is  a 
work  for  which  he  deserves  our  gratitude,  inasmuch  as  it  could 
not  add  to  his  fame,  and  he  could  only  be  remunerated  for 
his  labour  by  the  pleasure  of  being  useful  to  others. 

M.  Houdon  had  now  no  rival  in  France  ; and  his  fame 
had  reached  America.  He  w7as  invited  to  the  United  States 
for  the  purpose  of  executing  a likeness  of  Washington  in  mar- 
ble, and  chiseling  a statue  of  the  hero  of  our  revolution,  a 
work  which  had  been  long  contemplated.  I have  already  no- 
ticed the  attempt  made  by  Mr.  Joseph  Wright,  in  1783,  to 
take  a masque  or  mould  in  plaster  of  Paris,  from  which  a cast 


His  arrival  in  America. 


323 


might  have  been  made  as  a guide  to  some  sculptor,  in  the 
formation  of  a statue,  and  the  accidental  failure  of  Wright’s 
effort. 

M.  Quatrieme  de  Quincy  says,  in  his  “Notice  Historique 
sur  la  vie  et  les  ouvrages  de  M.  Houdon,”  which  I have  freely 
used,  “ The  United  States  invited  him  to  execute  the  statue  of 
Washington.”  This  is  not  fact.  The  State  of  Virginia  had 
resolved  to  have  such  a statue,  and  Benjamin  Franklin  and 
Thomas  Jefferson  agreed  with  the  sculptor  to  cross  the  Atlan- 
tic for  the  purpose  of  making  a bust,  preparatory  to  executing 
the  statue  for  the  state-house  at  Richmond.  Mr.  Jefferson 
was  probably  authorized  by  his  native  state  to  engage  an  art- 
ist for  the  purpose. 

The  same  w riter  says,  “ Conducted  to  America  by  Frank- 
lin, he  resided  some  time  at  Philadelphia,  where  he  was  lodged 
in  the  house  of  Washington  himself.”  This  is  likewise  erro- 
neous, General  Washington  having  retired  to  his  house  at 
Mount  Vernon^  at  which  place  M.  Houdon  executed  his  bust, 
and  took  the  measurement  of  the  hero’s  person,  to  give  perfect 
accuracy  to  the  proportions  of  the  statue  ; which  was  done  in 
the  presence  of  Mr.  Madison.  For  the  proof  of  this  see  the 
letters  in  the  note.* 


* Philadelphia,  September  20,  1785. 

Dear  Sir — I am  just  arrived  from  a country  where  the  reputation  of  General 
Washington  runs  very  high,  and  where  every  body  wishes  to  see  him  in  person  ; 
but  being  told  that  it  is  not  likely  he  will  ever  favour  them  with  a visit,  they  hope 
at  least  for  a sight  of  his  perfect  resemblance,  by  means  of  their  principal  statu- 
ary, M.  Houdon,  whom  Mr.  Jefferson  and  myself  agreed  with  to  come  over  for 
the  purpose  of  taking  a bust,  in  order  to  make  the  intended  statue  for  the  state  of 
Virginia.  He  is  here,  but  the  materials  and  instruments  he  sent  down  the  Seine 
from  Paris,  not  being  arrived  at  Havre  when  we  sailed,  he  was  obliged  to  leave 
them,  and  is  now  busied  in  supplying  himself  here.  As  soon  as  that  is  done  he 
proposes  to  wait  on  you  in  Virginia,  as  he  understands  there  is  no  prospect  of  your 
coming  hither,  which  would  indeed  make  me  very  happy  : as  it  would  give  me 
the  opportunity  of  congratulating  with  you  personally  on  the  final  success  of  your 
long  and  painful  labours  in  the  service  of  our  country,  which  have  laid  us  all 
under  eternal  obligations. 

With  the  greatest  and  most  sincere  esteem  and  respect, 

I am,  dear  sir,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

B.  Franklin. 


[answer  to  the  foregoing.] 

Mount  Vernon , September  26,  1785. 

I had  just  written,  and  was  about  to  put  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Taylor,  (a  gen- 
tleman in  the  department  of  the  secretary  for  foreign  affairs,)  the  inclosed  letter, 
when  I had  the  honour  to  receive  your  favour  of  the  20th  instant. 

I have  a grateful  sense  of  the  partiality  of  the  French  nation  towards  me  ; and 
I feel  very  sensibly  for  the  indulgent  expression  of  your  letter,  which  does  me 
great  honour. 


324  Statue  of  Washington  at  Richmond . 

It  is  true,  as  the  author  goes  on  to  say,  that  “ he  took  the 
likeness  of  Washington  en  buste , and  brought  it  home  with 
him,  to  serve  in  the  execution  of  the  statue  in  marble,”  destined 
for  the  capitol  in  the  city  of  Richmond,  “ where  it  may  be 
seen.” 

In  the  diary  of  Governeur  Morris,  as  published  by  the  Rev. 
Jared  Sparks,  is  the  following  insertion.  “June  5th,  (1789,) 
Go  to  M.  Houdon’s.  He  has  been  waiting  for  me  a long 
time.  I stand  for  his  statue  of  General  Washington,  being 
the  humble  employment  of  a manikin.  This  is  literally  tak- 
ing the  advice  of  St.  Paul,  to  be  all  things  to  all  men, — pro- 
mise M.  Houdon  to  attend  next  Tuesday,  athalf-past  eight,  to 
have  my  bust  taken,  which  he  desires  to  please  himself  for  this 
is  the  answer  to  my  question,  what  he  wants  with  my  bust  ?” 

I have  seen  the  statue  of  Washington  in  the  capitol  at  Rich- 
mond. It  is  not  so  good  a likeness  as  Ceracchi’s  bust  in  mar- 
ble, size  of  life,  or  Stuart’s  original  head  of  Washington.  The 
statue  is  in  the  modern  costume.  The  general  has  his  full 
military  dress,  as  worn  in  the  war  of  our  liberation.  Of  what 
use  the  person  of  Governeur  Morris  could  be  to  the  artist  I 
cannot  conceive,  as  there  was  no  likeness  in  form  or  manner 
between  him  and  the  hero,  except  that  both  were  tall  men. 
And  the  measurements  above-mentioned,  which  Mr.  Madison 
told  Mr.  Durand  (at  the  time  that  artist  went  to  Virginia  for 
the  purpose  of  painting  his  excellent  head  of  that  great  man) 
he  saw  the  sculptor  make  at  Mount  Vernon,  would  certainly 
not  agree  with  the  proportions  of  Mr.  Morris. 

On  his  return  to  Paris,  M.  Houdon  produced  a statue  of 
Diana,  a copy  of  which  was  made  in  bronze.  The  original, 
in  marble,  was  ordered  by  the  Empress  Catharine,  of  Russia, 
for  the  Hermitage.  It  is  said  that  this  Diana  is  more  like  one 
of  the  followers  of  Venus  than  the  goddess  of  Chastity.  M. 
de  Quincy,  with  great  naivete , wonders  that  the  artist  should 
so  represent  Diana.  He  forgets  that  the  statue  was  destined 


When  it  suits  Mr.  Houdon  to  come  hither,  I will  accommodate  him  in  the  best 
manner  I am  able,  and  shall  endeavour  to  render  his  stay  as  agreeable  as  I can. 

It  would  give  me  infinite  pleasure  to  see  you.  At  this  place  I dare  not  look 
for  it,  although  to  entertain  you  under  my  own  roof  would  be  doubly  gratifying. 
When,  or  whether  ever,  I shall  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  you  at  Philadel- 
phia is  uncertain,  as  retirement  from  the  walks  of  public  life  has  not  been  so  pro- 
ductive of  that  leisure  and  ease  as  might  have  been  expected. 

With  very  great  esteem  and  respect, 

I am,  dear  sir,  your  most  obedient  humble  servant, 

George  Washington. 


Statues  of  Voltaire  and  la  Frileuse.  3‘25 

for  Catharine  of  Russia.  That  she  should  order  a Diana  is 
the  wonder.* 

M.  Houdon  gained  great  credit  by  his  representation  of 
Voltaire.  Pigale  had  been  employed  to  execute  a statue  of 
the  poet  and  philosopher ; and  gave  him  in  all  the  nudity  of 
the  Greek  statuary,  and  all  the  detailed  decrepitude  of  old 
age.  The  result  was  a figure  fit  for  the  anatomical  school. 
Houdon’s  statue  is  sitting,  and  the  drapery  flowing  and  be- 
fitting a philosopher.  It  has  the  air  of  the  antique,  and  is  a 
true  portrait  of  the  man.  The  cqstume  might  be  termed  ideal, 
but  accorded  strictly  with  his  character,  at  the  same  time  avoid- 
ing the  dress  of  the  court  or  the  street.  Gulian  C.  Verplanck 
and  Washington  Allston  saw  this  great  effort  of  Houdon’s 
genius  at  the  same  time.  Allston  stood  silent  before  it  for 
some  minutes,  and  then  exclaimed,  “ A living  statue !” 

The  statue  called  la  Frileuse , gained  M.  Houdon  great  popu- 
larity, and  principally  by  the  charm  of  simplicity.  It  is  the 
personification  of  cold,  or  winter.  This  simplicity  was  not 
the  characteristic  of  Houdon’s  style  in  portraiture.  He  pro- 
duced likeness  by  too  great  attention  to  detail.  Among  the 
many  portraits  from  his  chisel  may  be  mentioned  Voltaire, 
Franklin,  Gluck,  Washington,  Rousseau,  D’Alembert,  Buffon, 
Gerbier,  Sacchini,  Barthelemi,  and  Mirabeau. 

The  revolution  was  inimical  to  the  arts.  Heads  were  taken 
off  by  a more  summary  process  than  those  of  the  painter  or 
sculptor ; and  the  artist  who  had  been  favoured  b}'  monarchs 
and  nobles,  became  the  object  of  suspicion  when  licentious- 
ness had  supplanted  liberty,  and  was  preparing  the  way  for 
renewed  despotism.  Houdon,  during  that  reaction  wdiose 
cause  was  the  insolence  of  tyranny  and  the  baseness  of  slavish 
submission — during  the  tumult  caused  by  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment falling  into  the  hands  of  those  who  had  been  rendered 


♦ One  of  the  questions  long  agitated  in  relation  to  portraits  of  modern  person- 
ages is,  (or  has  been,)  whether  the  costume  of  the  time  should  be  adopted,  or 
every  modern  be  made  to  assume  the  habiliments  of  Greece  and  Rome.  As  it 
respects  painting,  the  question  has  been  decided  both  by  ridicule  and  argument. 
The  alderman  or  cheesemonger  in  cuirass  or  toga,  and  their  wives  as  nymphs  or 
shepherdesses  have  been  laughed  from  the  esel  and  the  canvas.  But  it  was  and 
is  contended  that  a warrior  or  statesman  may  be  disguised  or  appear  in  masquer- 
ade when  he  appears  in  marble,  provided  the  face  is  unmasked.  I believe  that  a 
skillful  artist  may  dispose  of  any  costume  so  as  to  exhibit  characteristic  grace, 
and  think  that  every  portrait,  whether  in  marble  or  painted — whether  on  a round 
or  flat  surface — should  represent  the  truth,  and  convey  to  posterity  not  only  the 
features  and  expression  of  the  individual,  but  the  costume  of  the  age.  The  choice 
may  be  of  a winter  or  summer  dress — an  in-door  or  out-door — a mornincr  gown 
for  a student,  or  a hunting  dress  for  a sportsman.  A cloak  or  veil  will  sufficiently 
destroy  the  too  familiar  or  the  too  stiff — the  point  is  however  yet  undecided. 


326  A saint  turned  philosopher, 

brutal  by  the  usurpation  of  kings  and  courtiers — during  the 
hurly-burly  of  revolutions  and  insurrections,  amused  himself 
by  finishing  a statue  of  one  of  holy  mother  church’s  saints, 
which  had  been  long  neglected  in  his  attelier.  The  old  regime 
of  despotic  church  and  despotic  state  government,  had  been 
too  closely  connected,  and  too  oppressive,  to  allow  of  separa- 
tion now  that  the  once  oppressed  were  the  masters.  The 
artist  was  denounced.  He  was  accused  of  devoting  his  talents 
to  the  cause  of  oppression.  No  distinction  could  be  allowed 
between  religion  and  the  hierarchy  ; and  the  hierarchy  was  as 
odious  as  the  aristocracy  or  the  monarchy.  Happily  the 
pleader  who  defended  Houdon,  bethought  himself  of  turning 
the  statue  into  a representative  of  Philosophy  ; denied  its  holy 
character ; and  saved  the  head  of  the  artist  by  convincing  the 
judges  that  he  had  no  religion,  and  his  marble  saint  no  sanctity. 
The  statue  was  pronounced  to  be  Philosophy,  the  enemy  of 
priestcraft  and  tyranny  ; and  Houdon  had  only  to  undergo 
the  fear  of  death  as  a reward  for  his  industry  and  skill. 

A new  generation  of  artists  sprung  up  with  the  new  gene- 
ration of  mushroom  kings,  princes,  dukes,  and  other  nobles ; 
and  Houdon  was  found  too  old  to  contend  with  the  aspirants 
of  the  colossal  empire.  He  was  however  remembered  ; but  it 
was  only  to  afford  him  an  honourable  retreat  in  his  old  age. 
He  was  employed  to  model  subjects  intended  for  the  colossal 
column  of  Boulogne-sur-mer , and  his  work  was  never  applied 
as  designed. 

When  the  hideous  despotism  of  Bonaparte  was  overthrown 
by  a combination  of  meaner  tyrants,  aided  by  injured  and  suf- 
fering humanity,  Houdon  had  withdrawn  from  public  life. 
He  had  played  his  part  on  the  stage,  and  had  retired  full  of 
years  and  honours.  He  was  a member  of  the  legion  of  ho- 
nour, and  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Fine  Arts.  He  had  been 
an  active  professor,  and  assisted  still  at  the  sittings  of  the 
academy,  without  taking  frequent  part  in  debate  or  delibera- 
tion ; and  terminated  a long  and  honourable  career  at  the  age 
of  eighty-eight,  on  the  16th  of  July,  1828.# 


* The  London  artists  tell  an  anecdote  ofM.  Houdon,  illustrative  of  the  super- 
cilious feelings  and  manners  of  French,  Italian,  and  other  continental  professors 
of  the  fine  arts  in  the  last  century.  Houdon  and  Flaxman  were  at  Rome  at  the 
same  time,  and  some  years  afterward  Houdon  being  asked  if  he  remembered  a 
great  English  sculptor  of  the  name  of  Flaxman,  replied,  “ Flaxman'!  Flaxmanl 
No.”  “Why  you  were  at  the  same  time  students  in  Rome,  you  certainly  must 
remember  so  remarkable  and  excellent  an  artist — an  English  sculptor.”  “Oh  ! 
Flaxman — ah! — a little  man  with  a hump  on  his  back — an  Englishman — the 
English  do  make  very  good — penknives  and  razors.” 


Mr.  Malcolm  goes  to  England. 


327 


JAMES  PELLER  MALCOLM,  F.  S.  A. — 1787. 

This  artist  made.his  first  efforts  as  a painter  in  Philadelphia, 
about  the  year  1787—8.  We  shall  draw  our  information  re- 
specting this  gentleman  principally  from  a memoir,  written  by 
himself  in  1805.  His  grandfather,  Malcolm,  he  says  “went 
from  Scotland  to  St.  Christophers  or  St.  Kitts,  where  all  his 
numerous  family  became  extinct,  except  my  father,  a merchant, 
who  died  in  Philadelphia  when  under  30  years  of  age,  and 
when  I was  but  two  years  old.” 

His  maternal  grand-parents,  the  Pellers,  were  natives  of 
Bristol  ; “ whence  James  Peller,  his  great  grandfather,  went  in 
the  same  ship  with  William  Penn  to  the  banks  of  the  Dela- 
ware, and  there  hutted  with  him  and  other  adventurers  of  the 
voyage ; returned  with  him,  and  again  went  finally,  convey- 
ing his  family.”  William  Penn  was  not  under  the  necessity  of 
hutting.  This  is  a trifle  perhaps,  but  truth  is  not  to  be 
trifled  with. 

Air.  Alalcolm  says,  “ The  house  in  which  Air.  Peller  resided 
was  built  by  him  about  1689  ; and  there  all  my  immediate  re- 
latives of  this  branch  were  born ; nor  was  it  taken  down  till 
about  1793,  after  we  had  sold  it.” 

James  Peller  Alalcolm  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  in  the 
month  of  August  1767,  and  baptized  in  St.  Peter’s  Church,  by 
the  Rev.  Jacob  Duche,  elsewhere  mentioned  by  me.  Young 
Alalcolm  was  admitted  at  the  quaker  school ; but  as  the  ene- 
mies of  his  country  approached  Philadelphia,  he  was  removed 
to  Pottstown,  and  there  received  his  education.  He  returned 
to  Philadelphia  in  1784.  “During  the  period  in  which  I re- 
ceived my  education,”  he  says,  “ I felt  the  strongest  impulses 
to  drawing  and  painting  ; and  employed  every  leisure  moment 
I could  command  in  those  fascinating  pursuits.  Air.  Bem- 
bridge,  a relation  and  a brother  student  of  Air.  West,  who  had 
spent  several  years  at  Rome,  flattered  me  with  his  approbation 
and  advised  an  immediate  voyage  to  Great  Britain.” 

We  stop  to  say  that  we  do  not  think  Air.  Bembridge  was 
related  to  Air.  West,  that  he  was  not  a “brother  student,”  is 
certain.  This  error  is  excusable  in  Air.  Alalcolm,  who  knew 
they  were  both  Pennsylvanians,  and  both  had  studied  in 
Rome. 

Air.  Alalcolm  visited  England  “ immediately  after  he  was  of 
age.”  Of  course  some  time  in  the  year  1788-9.  He  continues, 
“After  I had  studied  at  the  Royal  Academy  three  years,  and 
received  many  hints  relating  to  the  art  from  the  late  Air. 


328 


His  industry  and  afflictions . 

Wright  of  Derby,  and  Mr.  West,  I began  to  perceive  that  no 
encouragement  was  offered  to  the  liberal  branches  of  history 
and  landscape,  and  therefore  desisted  from  the  pursuit.  My 
subsequent  efforts  in  engraving  are  the  result  of  self-taught 
knowledge.” 

I have  expressed  my  opinion  of  the  words  self-taught. 
Here  is  a gentleman  who  from  the  mature  age  of  21  or  22, 
studies  drawing  in  the  best  school  in  Europe  for  three  years — 
mingles  with  artists,  and  sees  all  the  best  paintings  and  en- 
gravings, yet  when  he  commences  working  on  copper,  Instead 
of  paper  and  canvas,  considers  his  knowledge  as  proceeding 
from  himself. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  Mr.  Malcolm,  after  his  dis- 
appointment in  England,  returned  to  Philadelphia,  and  that 
then  his  maternal  property,  the  Peller-house,  was  sold.  Alex- 
ander Lawson  says,  “ There  was  a young  lad  of  the  name  of 
Malcolm,  about  ’92  ’or  3,  who  drew  and  engraved  an  inside 
view  of  Christ  Church,  and  some  other  things  without  any  in- 
structions, scratchy  and  poor,  but  indicating  talent.  He  went 
to  England,  where  he  became  an  architectural  draughtsman.” 
See  how  the  word  scratchy  agrees  with  Malcolm’s  taste  as  to 
engraving.  Speaking  of  his  works,  he  says,  “Which  I value 
only  in  proportion  as  they  are  approved  by  the  admirer  and 
judge  of  nature,  rejecting  the  gloss  of  mere  lines  without  a 
particle  of  true  drawing.”  The  works  of  Mr.  Malcolm,  as  we 
see  them  in  the  Gentleman’s  Magazine,  as  late  as  1815,  show 
this  want  of  attention  to  lines  and  are  scratchy. 

Mr.  Malcolm’s  mother  accompanied  him  to  England,  and 
her  property  having  been  exhausted  for  his  education,  he,  by 
his  industry  as  a writer  and  engraver,  maintained  her,  and  a 
wife  and  family,  until  he  sunk  “ under  a complication  of  disor- 
ders, originating  in  a white  swelling  of  the  knee,  which  from 
its  first  attack  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  his  limb.”  He  died  on 
the  5th  of  April,  1815. 

I believe  Mr.  Malcolm  was  a better  man  than  artist.  He 
continued  his  literary  exertions  through  sickness  and  pain,  and 
on  completing  a copious  index  for  Mr.  Nichols,  he  thus  ad- 
dressed him,  “ The  Almighty  has  been  so  merciful  to  me,  as 
to  enable  me  to  complete  your  index  ; and  thus  have  been  ful- 
filled your  benevolent  intentions  towards  me  and  my  family. 
Surely  never  was  an  index  completed  under  equal  continuance 
of  pain  ; but  it  was  a kind  of  refuge  and  solace  against  afflic- 
tion ; and  often  has  it  turned  aside  the  severest  pangs.” 

Mr.  Malcolm  published  plates  to  illustrate  the  environs  of 
London,  the  designs  by  himself:  letters  between  literary  men 


329 


John  Dixey. 

illustrative  of  Granger’s  Biographical  History  of  England, 
1808.  Excursions  in  Kent,  Gloucestershire,  &c.,  &c.,  with 
24  plates,  1807.  Second  edition,  1313.  Londininium  redevi- 
vum,  4 vols.  4to,  1802-7,  with  47  plates.  Anecdotes  of  the 
manners  and  customs  of  London,  from  the  Roman  invasion 
to  the  eighteenth  century,  1808-11,  with  forty-five  plates. 
Miscellaneous  anecdotes  illustrative  of  the  manners  and  history 
of  Europe,  during  the  reigns  of  Charles  II.,  James  II.,  William 
III.  and  Queen  Anne,  1811,  with  five  plates.  History  of  the 
art  of  caricaturing,  1813,  with  31  plates,  4to.  His  works  for 
the  Gentleman’s  Magazine  were  many,  and  for  Nichol’s  History 
of  Leicestershire  he  laboured  as  a draughtsman  and  engraver 
for  nearly  twenty  years.  He  likewise  designed  and  engraved 
many  architectural  views  for  various  individuals  and  societies. 
Thus  he  laboured  to  the  age  of  forty-seven,  and  left  his  family 
dependent  upon  the  charity  of  the  British  public. 

JOHN  DIXEY— 1789. 

Mr.  Dixey,  an  artist  educated  in  London,  is  among  our 
earlier  sculptors — among  the  pioneers  who  have  aided  the 
progress  of  art,  and  by  their  efforts  contributed  to  exalt  our 
national  character. 

John  Dixey  was  born  in  the  city  of  Dublin,  but  left  the 
metropolis  of  Ireland  at  an  early  age  for  London.  He  was  a 
student  of  the  Royal  Academy,  and  both  his  assiduity  and 
talent  must  have  been  appare  t,  as  I am  informed  that  his 
name  was  on  the  list  of  those  who  were  selected  from  the  stu- 
dents to  be  sent  to  Italy  for  finishing  their  education.  But 
other  prospects  opening  to  him,  he  left  England  for  America, 
and  arrived  in  1789. 

My  informant  says,  “ He  was  elected  vice-president  of  the 
Pennsylvania  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  in  1810  or  12,”  from 
which  we  know  that  he  was  at  that  time  a resident  of  that  city, 
although  he  lived  many  years  in  New-York  ; he  continues, 
“and  exhibited,  I think,  on  that  occasion,  a model  in  bas- 
relief  of  Hercules  chaining  the  Hydra.” 

The  models  he  executed  were  the  fruits  of  his  leisure 
hours,  made  at  such  intervals  as  he  could  spare  from  the  pur- 
suits which  the  state  of  the  arts  in  this  country,  at  that  time, 
compelled  him  to  resort  to.  He  wished  to  revive  the  too 
much  neglected  art  of  sculpture,  and  his  models  were  gene- 
rally done  at  a considerable  pecuniary  sacrifice.  His  death 
occurred  in  1820.  Besides  Hercules  and  the  Hydra,  Mr. 
Dixey  executed  in  1818,  a model  of  Ganymede,  and  the  next 
year  he  carved  in  wood  the  Adoration  of  the  wise  men  of  the 

42 


330 


Architecture. 


East,  The  Cherub’s  head  in  marble,  on  the  Hamilton  monu- 
ment, is  from  his  chisel,  and  the  Figures  of  Justice  on  the 
city-hall  of  New-York,  and  the  state  house  at  Albany  are  his 
design  and  execution. 

The  talents  and  acquirements  of  Mr.  Dixey,  for  many  years 
previous  to  his  death,  were  principally  directed  to  the  orna- 
mental and  decorative  embellishment  of  public  and  private 
edifices.  In  the  graceful  and  almost  endless  variety  in  Hvhich 
flowers  are  susceptible  of  being  grouped,  intermingled  with 
the  fanciful  heads  of  men  and  animals,  his  chisel  ever 
displayed  both  taste  and  ability. 

Mr.  Dixey  married  in  America  and  left  two  sons,  who,  as 
American  artists,  will  be  hereafter  mentioned. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Egyptian  architecture — adopted  and  improved  by  Greece— Orders— Roman  archi- 
tecture— Arabian — Gothic — Modern — American — City  of  Washington — Major 
L’Enfant. 

A history  of  Architecture  in  a work  like  this  must 
necessarily  be  exceedingly  brief,  my  object  being  the  progress 
of  the  art  in  our  own  country  ; but  a rapid  view  of  its  rise  and 
progress  in  other  countries,  until  Europeans  colonized  Ame- 
rica, appears  desirable,  as  an  introduction  to  what  I can 
record  conformably  to  my  general  plan. 

To  Mr.  A.  J.  Davis,  and  to  the  splendid  library  of  Mr.  J. 
Town,  I am  indebted  for  information  and  opportunities  which 
might  have  led  to  more  valuable  results. 

I adopt  the  opinion  which  gives  the  highest  antiquity  to  the 
architecture  of  Egypt.  That  country  of  wonders  furnished 
the  leading  principles  of  that  style  which  has  been  diffused 
throughout  the  world,  and  is  now  acknowledged  the  standard 
of  the  art — the  three  orders  of  Greece . 

The  Egyptian  style  is  colossal.  It  is  simple,  solid,  and 
gigantically  sublime.  In  its  decorations  the  vegetable  pro- 
ducts of  their  country  were  imitated  with  truth  and  taste. 
The  early  people  of  Egypt  appear  to  have  been  assiduous 
cultivators  of  science  and  art.  The  wonders  of  their  temples 
and  other  buildings  have  been,  until  of  late,  unknown  ; and 
the  work  of  discovery  begun  by  Pocock  and  Norden,  conti- 
nued by  the  French  savans,  and  yet  in  progress,  fills  the 
mind  with  astonishment  and  ardent  anticipation. 

The  excavated  temples  and  other  stupendous  monuments 
of  Indian  and  Persian  architecture,  are  immediately  derived 


331 


Grecian  architecture  borrowed  by  Greece. 

from  Egypt.  The  conquests  of  Osiris  and  Sesostris  carried 
the  arts  and  religion  of  Egypt  to  Hindoostan.  The  ruins  of 
Persepolis  may  be  traced  to  the  same  original.  In  all,  the 
huge  block,  the  heavy  column,  the  colossal  statue,  the  enor- 
mous animals  supporting  immense  piles  of  stone,  the  extent 
of  the  buildings,  and  their  suitableness  to  resist  time,  mark  the 
genius  of  the  same  people.  Every  where  are  seen  hierogly- 
phics, zodiacs,  celestial  planispheres,  sphynxes,  lions,  and 
other  animals,  with  beautifully  executed  bas-reliefs,  all  replete 
with  knowledge,  which  time  has  locked  up  from  modern  research, 
but  with  a key  that  will  be  discovered,  and  reward  the  philoso- 
phers of  a day  close  at  hand.  We  may  hope  that  what  has  for 
ages  been  viewed  with  stupid  wonder  by  the  barbarian,  or 
with  delight  by  the  man  oftaste,  as  beautiful  decoration,  will 
unfold  hereafter  sublimer  views  of  the  attributes  of  the  Creator 
of  the  universe,  than  have  generally  been  supposed  to  have 
existed  among  that  great  people,  and  precepts  for  the  govern- 
ment of  his  creatures,  mingled  with  the  records  of  a nation, 
from  which  the  successive  generations  of  mankind  have  receiv- 
ed the  genius  of  science,  yet  slowly  unfolding. 

To  Denon,  Belzoni,  and  Champolion,  we  are  indebted  for 
much  of  what  we  know  of  the  pyramids,  the  obelisks,  the  temples, 
statues,  bas-reliefs,  and  hieroglyphics  of  Egypt.  I proceed  to 
trace  the  elegance  and  proportions  of  Grecian  architecture  to 
their  originals  in  the  country  of  the  Pharaohs. 

The  Egyptian  column,  always  heavy,  sometimes  repre- 
sented the  trunk  of  a tree — sometimes  bundles  of  reeds-— or 
the  whole  plant  of  the  papyrus — bound  together  at  different  dis- 
tances, and  ornamented  at  the  base  with  palm-leaves.  Hence 
the  flutings  and  the  astragals  of  the  Greeks.  Both  capitals  and 
shafts  of  the  Grecian  columns  may  be  traced  to  the  Egyptians. 
The  Ionic  volute  is  to  be  seen.  The  peristyles  supported  by 
human  .figures,  as  in  the  Parian  and  Persian  peristyles  of  the 
Athenians,  are  of  Egyptian  invention,  as  well  as  many  other 
ornamental  or  fundamental  portions  of  the  art. 

But  that  susceptibility  to  the  beauty  of  form  which  charac- 
terized ancient  Greece,  gave  elegance,  simplicity,  and  propor- 
tion to  its  architecture  which  more  than  compensates  for  the 
enormous  masses  of  the  Egyptian,  and  by  its  sculpture  added 
decorations,  which  are  the  wonder  of  mankind  to  this  day. 
Greece  borrowed  science  and  art  from  Egypt,  and  brought 
the  latter  to  a state  of  perfection  from  which  men  have  only 
wandered  to  return  with  renewed  admiration. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  it  is  principally  to  the  Asiatic 
Greeks,  or  the  colonies  from  Grecia  proper,  that  we  owe  the 


332 


The  three  orders . 


arts  borrowed  from  Egypt,  and  the  improvement  on  them. 
The  names  of  Doric  and  Ionian  show  from  whence  these  im- 
provements in  architecture  came,  and  the  improvements  bor- 
rowed by  the  colonists  from  their  African  neighbours,  stimu- 
lated the  artists  of  the  mother  country,  until,  under  Pericles 
and  Phidias,  the  acme  of  Grecian  skill  and  architectural  great- 
ness was  established. 

The  Doric,  Ionic,  and  Corinthian  are  acknowledged  the 
universal  standard  of  taste  in  the  art.# 

The  Doric  is  the  oldest  of  the  three  great  orders,  and  was 
invented  by  the  Asiatic  Dorians,  borrowing  from  Egypt  in 
part.  Prior  to  the  days  of  Alexander,  it  prevailed  throughout 
Greece.  Its  characteristics  are  the  short  thick  column,  fluted, 
as  seen  in  the  ruins  of  Paestum  and  elsewhere.  The  capital 
is  composed  of  the  abacus,  or  square  flat  slab  ; and  the  ovolo, 
the  lower  member,  resting  on  the  capital.  The  whole  column 
is  five  and  a half  or  six  modules  in  height ; the  capital  being 
half  a module.  The  entablature  is  one  fourth  of  the  whole 
column  in  height,  and  divided  into  twenty-four  parts ; six  is 
given  to  the  cornice,  eight  to  the  frieze,  and  ten  to  the  archi- 
trave. The  cornice  is  the  most  simple  of  the  three  orders,  a 
thick  heavy  corona,  under  which  are  placed  carved  mutules, 
in  imitation  of  roofing  rafters. 

The  spiral  volute  particularly  distinguishes  the  Ionic  order, 
the  invention  of  the  Ionians  of  Asia  Minor.  This  ornament 
is  borrowed  from  Egypt.  The  Ionic  is  a medium  between  the 
massy  Doric  and  the  slender  Corinthian.  The  order  is  dis- 
tinguished by  a lighter  and  more  ornamental  entablature  than 
the  Doric,  a more  slender  column  with  the  spiral  volute,  the 
abacus  of  the  capital  is  scooped,  the  whole  is  supported  by  an 
echinus,  cut  into  eggs,  and  bordered  by  a beaded  astragal. 


* A few  technical  terms. 

A module  is  the  lower  diameter  of  a column  ; when  divided  into  60  parts,  is  the 
architectonic  scale. 

The  facade  is  the  front  of  a building,  generally  ornamented  with  a project- 
ing portico,  surmounted  by  a pediment. 

A pediment  consists  of  a tympanum  and  a cornice.  The  first  is  the  interior 
area,  usually  ornamented. 

Intercolumniations  are  the  spaces  between  the  pillars,  which  spaces  are  from 
one  module  and^  half  in  width  to  four  modules. 

The  entablature  and  column  are  the  distinguishing  features  of  an  order.  The 
first  consists  of  cornice,  frieze  and  architrave  ; the  second,  of  capital,  shaft  and 
base. 

The  architrave  (epistyle)  is  the  part  which  rests  on  the  columns,  and  represents 
the  main  beam  of  primitive  temples. 

The  frieze  is  the  centre  division,  and  rests  on  the  architrave,  and  the  cornice 
crowns  the  whole  and  supports  the  roof. 

The  capital,  shaft  and  base  of  a column  are  too  well  known  to  need  expla- 
nation. 


Roman  architecture.  333 

The  column  of  this  order  has  a base  supported  on  a square 
plinth. 

The  proportions  of  the  Ionic  column  are,  a height  of  eight 
modules,  of  which  the  base  occupies  thirty  lines  ; the  capital 
twenty,  and  the  shaft  seven  and  a half  modules.  The  best 
specimens  of  the  Ionic  are  the  temples  of  Minerva  Polias,  at 
Priene  and  Athens,  and  of  Jupiter  Erectheus  at  Athens. 

The  Corinthian  order,  more  ornamented  and  in  greater 
favour  with  the  Roman  conquerors  of  Greece,  did  not  super- 
sede the  Ionic  in  Grecian  estimation.  Its  bell-shaped  capital 
is  borrowed  from  Egypt,  and  decorated  with  the  leaves  of  the 
acanthus.  The  ruins  of  Balbec  and  Palmyra,  remains  of 
Roman  grandeur,  give  specimens  of  the  Corinthian  temple. 
The  column  is  nine  and  three  quarter  modules,  of  which  the 
capital  occupies  one,  the  base  twenty  lines,  and  the  shaft  eight 
modules.  The  entablature  is  one-fifth  of  the  height  of  the 
whole  column,  and  is  divided  into  an  architrave  of  thirty-six 
lines,  a frieze  of  thirty-three  lines,  and  a cornice  of  thirty-nine. 

When  two  or  three  orders  are  employed  in  one  edifice,  the 
heaviest  should  form  the  base,  and  the  lighter  surmount  it. 

Another  style  of  architecture  adopted  by  the  Greeks  is 
composed  of  male  and  female  figures,  occupying  the  place  of 
columns,  and  made  to  support  a heavy  Doric  entablature. 
The  male  figures  represent  Persians,  and  commemorate  con- 
quests over  them,  and  the  female  Careans — the  latter  are  called 
Caryatides.  The  invention  is  founded  on  a barbarous  system 
of  moral  feeling,  and  we  are  happy  to  say  that  even  among 
the  ancients  it  did  not  much  prevail.  Specimens  are  found  in 
the  Pandroseam  at  Athens.  The  artists  of  modern  Italy,  in 
many  instances,  adopted  them. 

The  Grecian  temples  and  theatres  gave  scope  for  the  exer- 
cise of  the  exalted  taste  displayed  by  the  nation  in  architecture 
and  sculpture.  I have,  said  enough  to  lead  the  reader  on 
for  our  purpose,  and  I hope  enough  to  stimulate  him  to  the 
study  of  those  who  will  satisfy  the  thirst  I wish  to  create. 

The  Roman  architecture  is  built  on  that  of  Etruria,  and 
finished  after  the  models  of  the  Greek.  The  arch,  unknown 
to  the  Egyptians,  may  have  originated  with  the  Etruscans, 
but  the  Romans  brought  it  to  perfection,  and  bestowed  on 
architecture  an  inestimable  gift. 

In  other  respects  Roman  architecture  only  combined  the 
Grecian  orders  with  variations,  which  are  now  justly  rejected. 
Rome,  however,  invented  what  are  called  the  Tuscan  and 
Composite  orders.  The  first  is  the  simplest  of  all  the  orders, 
and  most  solid.  Its  column  is  only  five  modules  in  height — 


334 


Various  styles . 

the  shaft  is  four : the  base  thirty  lines,  and  the  capital  the 
same.  This  order  may  support  even  the  Doric. 

The  great  architectural  remains  of  the  Romans,  peculiarly 
their  own,  are  the  cloacae,  circuses,  acqueducts,  columns, 
amphitheatres,  and  baths. 

With  the  overthrow  of  the  Roman  empire,  architecture,  as 
a fine  art,  vanished  ; and  it  is  only  in  more  extensive  works 
that  its  decline  and  revival  can  be  recorded.  The  Goths 
robbed  the  beautiful  specimens  of  art  to  form  castles  and 
strongholds — the  Lombards  followed,  even  more  rude  than 
their  predecessors- — Christianity  raised  churches,  and,  even  in 
the  dark  ages,  infused  some  life  into  architectural  science. 
Then  followed  the  Arabian,  Saracenic,  and  Moorish  archi- 
tecture. And  the  Arabians,  imbibing  science  and  taste  from 
the  nations  they  subdued,  produced  a fanciful  style  of  archi- 
tecture, combined  with  great  skill,  taste,  and  science,  from 
the  models  of  antiquity ; and  kept  distinct  from  the  temples 
of  Pagan  or  Christian,  equally  abominations  in  their  eyes. 
They  adopted  the  Roman  arch.  They  invented  the  pointed 
arch,  and  the  sacred  or  horse-shoe  arch.  The  Turks  are 
the  only  Mohammedans  who  have  adopted  Christian  architec- 
ture, which  is  attributable  to  their  conquest  of  Constantinople. 

Specimens  of  Mohammedan  rchitecture  are  to  be  seen  in 
many  parts  of  the  world,  but  the  most  worthy  of  admiration 
are  the  mosques  of  Benares  and  Lucknow. 

For  the  Norman  architecture  we  must  refer  to  others ; only 
remarking  that  they  adopted  the  cross  for  the  form  of  their 
churches,  and  the  tower  or  steeple  as  an  ornament  : but  the 
Gothic,  into  which  it  passed  in  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  cen- 
tury, as  it  is  still  imitated,  we  must  pause  upon. 

The  Gothic  style  differs  from  all  others.  By  whom  in- 
vented is  yet  in  dispute.  A plausible  conjecture  is,  that  it 
arose  in  Spain  during  the  struggles  of  the  Goths  and  Moors. 
In  the  twelfth  century  it  was  adopted  in  France.  The  doors, 
like  the  Norman,  were  deeply  recessed,  and  three  were  adopted 
as  typical  of  the  trinity.  The  windows  were  narrow,  and  ter- 
minated with  the  sharp  arch — columns  were  clustered  pillars 
encircled  with  fasces — the  capitals  formed  of  flowers  or  deli- 
cate foliage — projecting  buttresses  and  the  spire  were  introdu- 
ced.— Little  turrets  and  parapets  were  adopted  from  the  castles. 

By  degrees  this  style  improved  in  magnificence,  with  the 
rule  of  the  clergy.  The  doors  were  enlarged,  and  surmounted 
with  triangular  pediments,  and  ornamented  with  sculptures. 
The  windows  were  enlarged  and  ornamented  with  pillars, 
whose  tracery  imitated  the  most  beatifu!  flowers.  The  columns 


Decline. 


335 


became  more  delicate  and  elevated.  The  crocket  or  crochet 
was  introduced  at  the  angles  of  spires,  tabernacles,  canopies, 
and  turrets.  Buttresses  were  made  more  projecting  and 
ornamented  with  tablets  and  niches.  The  14th  century 
increased  this  gorgeous  style,  and  statues  evince  the  improve- 
ment of  sculpture.  The  vaulting  of  the  naves  and  aisles 
became  more  complex  and  rich  in  ornament.  The  specimens 
of  this  best  style  are  the  Church  of  St.  Owen,  that  of  St. 
Sepulchre,  and  St.  Stephen  at  Rouen,  Paris  and  Caen. 

To  this  succeeded  the  Florid  style,  and  this  is  the  period  of 
decline.  This  style,  in  the  15th  century,  degenerated  into 
false  taste  and  fantastic  refinement.  By  degrees  every  spe- 
cies of  architecture  was  combined  with  the  Gothic , and  finally 
the  Gothic  gave  way  to  a pure  taste  in  the  revival  of  the 
Antique  or  Grecian  style.  As  in  sculpture  so  in  architecture, 
the  Greeks  are  our  models  and  our  masters. 

We  have  not  at  all  times  (when  speaking  of  Greece)  been 
sensible  of  the  obligations  which  Greece  proper  owed  to 
her  colonies.  Not  only  the  two  most  perfect  orders  of  archi- 
tecture, the  Doric  and  Ionic,  were  invented  by  the  colonists,  but 
the  history  of  Heroditus,  and  the  poems  of  Homer,  were 
bestowed  by  the  colonies  on  the  mother  country  and  the 
world. 

English  writers  tell  us  that  in  the  land  of  our  forefathers 
architecture  has  declined  since  the  days  of  Inigo  Jones  and  Sir 
Christopher  Wren,  and  they  complain  of  the  want  of  inven- 
tion and  taste,  and  even  common  sense  in  their  late  architects. 
They  complain  of  abortive  attempts  at  Roman,  Grecian  and 
Gothic  architecture — of  ornaments  so  misapplied  as  to  become 
ludicrous,  and  of  monuments  which  are  only  monuments  of 
absurdity. 

Let  us  now  come  home,  hoping  that  our  brief  sketch  may 
elucidate  the  rise  and  progress  of  this  inestimable  art  in  our 
own  country.  Public  architecture  seems  principally  connect- 
ed with  our  subject,  but  the  effect  of  domestic  architecture 
upon  the  moral  feelings  and  character  of  mankind,  renders  it 
a subject  not  to  be  disregarded  by  us.  This  is  beautifully 
illustrated  by  T.  Dwight,  D.  D.,  president  of  Yale  College, 
in  the  2d  volume  of  his  travels  through  the  eastern  and  middle 
states. 

The  learned  and  amiable  president  has  enforced  the  utility  of 
the  fine  arts,  and  shown  how  intimately  utility  and  the  most  refin- 
ed and  ennobling  pleasure  are  connected.  Roscoe  has  beautifully 
said,  “Utility  and  pleasure  are  bound  together  in  an  indissoluble 


336 


City  of  Washington. 

chain.  And  what  the  Author  of  nature  has  joined  let  no  man  put 
asunder.”  These  reflections  are  applicable  to  other  fine  arts  as 
well  as  architecture.  Dugald  Stewart  has  said,  “ A man  of 
benevolence,  whose  mind  is  tinctured  with  philosophy,  will 
view  all  the  different  improvements  in  arts,  in  commerce,  and 
in  science,  as  co-operating  to  promote  the  union,  the  happi- 
ness, and  the  virtue  of  mankind.” 

Before  speaking  of  such  architects  as  have  imprinted  their 
names  on  our  public  works,  in  hopes  of  a short-lived  immorta- 
lity, I will  republish  a “few  remarks  respecting  the  city  of 
Washington,  the  capitol,  and  those  who  have  contributed,  by 
their  talents,  wealth,  or  industry,  to  raise”  the  metropolis  t)f 
the  United  States. 

“ The  design  for  the  capitol  was  made  by  Dr.  Thornton, 
who  received  the  premium  for  the  same.  He  was  a scholar 
and  a gentleman — full  of  talent  and  eccentricity — a quaker 
by  profession,  a painter,  a poet,  and  a horse-racer — well  ac- 
quainted with  the  mechanic  arts — at  the  head  of  the  patent 
office,  and  was  one  of  the  original  projectors  (with  John  Fitch) 
of  steamboats,  and  the  author  of  an  excellent  treatise  on  lan- 
guage, called  1 Cadmus.’  He  was  ‘ a man  of  infinite  humour’ — 
humane  and  generous,  yet  fond  of  field  sports — his  company  was 
a complete  antidote  to  dullness. 

“The  north  wing  of  the  capitol  was  chiefly  built  by  Mr. 
George  Hadfield.  He  was  a man  of  uncommon  talents,  and 
was  selected  by  Colonel  Trumbull,  in  London,  under  the  au- 
thority of  the  commissioners  for  laying  out  the  city,  to  super- 
intend the  building  of  the  capitol ; but,  unfortunately,  a dis- 
pute arose  between  him  and  them,  which  ended  in  his  leaving 
the  public  employment,  by  which  we  were  deprived  of  his 
eminent  talents.  He  gave  the  plan  of  the  public  offices,  the 
City  Hall,  Custis’s  Mansion,  Commodore  Porter’s,  Gadsby’s 
Hotel,  (when  Weightman’s  buildings,)  Fuller’s  Hotel,  the 
United  States  Bank,  Van  Ness’  Mausoleum,  &c.  He  died  1826. 

“ Mr.  Latrobe  built  the  south  wing,  and  gave  the  final  plan 
for  finishing  the  capitol.  He  also  was  a man  of  brilliant  ta- 
lents. He  died  some  years  ago  in  New-Orleans.  Mr.  Chas. 
Bulfinch  erected  the  rotunda,  improved  the  design  of  the  east- 
ern front,  and  finished  the  building. 

“ Mr.  G.  Blagden  was  the  chief  builder — a worthy  man  and 
an  excellent  workman.  He  was  killed  three  or  four  years  ago 
by  the  falling  in  of  some  earth  at  the  capitol. 

“ Mr.  Lenthall,  the  clerk  of  the  works,  was  killed  by  the 
falling  of  an  arch  over  the  room  of  the  supreme  court  some 
years  before  Mr.  B. 


337 


History  of  improvements  at  Washington. 

“ Mr.  Lenox  was  the  chief  carpenter,  and  the  late  Mr.  Andre 
the  chief  sculptor.  They  were  both  distinguished  men,  and  the 
public  spirit  of  the  former  (lately  deceased)  has  contributed 
much  to  the  embellishment  of  the  city  by  good  buildings. 

“ The  trees  and  shrubs  around  the  capitol,  and  other  public 
places,  were  chiefly  planted  by  our  friend,  Mr.  John  Foy.  In 
this  business  he  has  shown  much  skill,  and  his  labours  have 
been  attended  with  complete  success.  In  after  ages,  when 
the  old  and  the  young  shall  take  shelter  from  the  heat  under 
their  shade,  they  will  bless  the  memory  of  the  honest  Irishman 
who  planted  them. 

“ The  great  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  canal  owes  its  first  sugges- 
tion to  the  sagacious  mind  of  Washington  ; but  it  received  its 
impetus  and  beginning,  its  noble  dimensions,  and  admirable 
execution,  from  the  enlightened  and  indefatigable  Mercer. 

“ The  conveying  of  the  pure  water  from  the  source  of  Tiber 
creek  to  the  capitol,  in  pipes,  is  the  suggestion  of  the  Colum- 
bian Institute,  a committee  of  which  took  the  levels  for  that 
purpose  about  four  years  ago,  by  which  it  was  ascertained 
that  the  source  of  the  water  was  about  thirty  feet  above  the 
base  of  the  capitol ; that  sixty-five  gallons  of  pure  spring 
water  per  minute  could  be  delivered  ; and  recommended,  in  a 
petition  to  congress,  that  the  water  be  brought  into  a reservoir 
in  the  capitol  square,  and  afterwards  thrown  up  in  a jet  in  the 
Botanic  garden.  This  work  is  in  a state  of  forwardness,  but 
the  main  reservoir,  it  is  feared,  (as  mentioned  by  Mr.  F.)  is  in 
too  low  a situation,  and  is  too  near  the  capitol.  By  placing 
it  in  the  east  or  upper  side  of  the  square,  all  the  grounds  might 
have  been  irrigated,  which  would  have  given  them  a green  and 
beautiful  appearance  in  the  heat  of  summer. 

“ As  to  the  enlargement  of  the  grounds  around  the  capitol, 
as  suggested  by  Mr.  F.  and  others,  my  opposition  is  founded 
on  preserving  the  original  plan  of  the  city  entire — a plan  beau- 
tifully consistent  in  all  its  parts.  And  a serious  question  may 
one  day  arise,  whether  the  plan  of  the  city  can  be  altered  to  the 
injury  of  private  property. 

“ During  the  administrations  of  Presidents  Washington  and 
Adams,  the  plan  of  the  city  was  laid  out,  and  the  capitol, 
president’s  house,  two  of  the  executive  offices,  and  navy-yard 
were  commenced,  and  carried  on  to  a considerable  extent. 

“ Mr.  Jefferson  adopted  Mr.  Latrobe’s  plan  of  the  hall  of 
representatives  and  senate  chamber,  and  caused  Pennsylvania 
avenue  to  be  opened  and  planted  with  trees.  Owing  to  the 
restrictions  on  commerce  and  the  late  war,  little  was  done  in 
Mr.  Madison’s  administration  for  the  benefit  of  the  city,  except 


338 


Major  L?  Enfant. 

by  friendly  feelings,  &c.  In  Mr.  Monroe’s  administration  two 
new  executive  offices  were  built,  the  president’s  house  nearly 
finished,  the  north  entrance  of  the  square  in  which  it  stands 
ornamented  with  a handsome  gateway  and  iron  railing,  both 
wings  of  the  capitol  restored,  the  centre  building  commenced, 
and  the  capitol  nearly  completed  ; the  square  surrounded  with 
an  iron  railing,  and  trees  and  shrubs  planted. 

“ During  the  administration  of  Mr.  J.  Q.  Adams,  the  east 
front  and  the  rotunda  of  the  capitol  were  finished,  the  west  par- 
tially altered,  a penitentiary  erected,  the  general  post-office 
enlarged,  and  a new  patent  office  and  city  post-office  erected. 

“ The  present  aspect  and  future  prospects  of  the  city  are  en- 
couraging ; and  it  is  hoped  that  the  present  administration  of 
General  Jackson  will  leave  further  marks  of  its  munificence  to 
the  metropolis.” 


MAJOR  L’ENFANT— 1789. 

This  gentleman  was  a native  of  France,  and  the  first  I 
know  of  him  is  his  being  employed  to  rebuild,  after  a design 
of  his  own,  the  old  New-York  City  Hall  in  Wall-street,  front- 
ing Broad-street;  making  therefrom  the  Federal  Hall  of  that 
day.  The  new  building  was  for  the  accommodation  of  con- 
gress ; and  in  the  balcony,  upon  which  the  senate  chamber 
opened,  the  first  president  of  the  United  States  was  inaugu- 
rated. A ceremony  which  1 witnessed,  and  which  for  its  sim- 
plicity, the  persons  concerned  in  it,  the  effect  produced  upon 
my  country  and  the  world,  in  giving  stability  to  the  federal 
constitution,  by  calling  George  Washington  to  administer  its 
blessings,  remains  on  my  mind  unrivalled  by  any  scene  wit- 
nessed, through  a long  life,  either  in  Europe  or  America. 

This  building  gave  way,  as  perhaps  it  ought,  to  utility  and 
the  convenience  of  the  citizen.  It  projected  into  Wall-street, 
and  the  foot  passage  was  under  the  balcony  made  sacred  by 
the  above-mentioned  inauguration.  It  likewise  projected  into 
Nassau-street.  The  late  custom  house  was  upon  a part  of  the 
site  of  Federal  Hall,  as  Major  L’Enfant’s  building  was  called; 
and  the  great  custom  house  now  erecting  has  likewise  its 
foundation  on  a small  part  of  the  same  building. 

When  congress  removed  to  Philadelphia,  Major  L’Enfant 
accompanied  them.  Whether  any  public  building  in  that 
city  was  designed  by  him,  I know  not;  but  many  will  re- 
member the  enormous  house  began  by  him  for  Robert  Morris, 
the  great  financier  of  the  revolution,  the  foundation  of  which 
exhausted  a fortune,  and  which,  being  discontinued,  is  now 


Contributors  to  the  improvement  of  Washington.  339 

the  site  of  a large  square,  or  block  of  elegant  houses,  accom- 
modating numerous  families  of  wealthy  citizens. 

The  name  of  L’Enfant  is  not  only  associated  with  the  in- 
auguration of  our  first  president,  but  with  a permanent  monu- 
ment to  his  name  in  the  city  of  Washington.  It  is  well  known 
that  Washington  himself  fixed  upon  the  site  of  this  city  as  the 
seat  of  government  of  the  United  States,  and  Major  L’Enfant 
had  the  honour  of  designing  the  plan. 

I republish  from  an  anonymous  writer  the  following : — 

“ When  the  present  generation  shall  have  passed  away,  and 
mixed  with  those  beyond  the  flood  : when  party  strife  shall 
have  ceased  and  be  forgotten,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  future 
historian  of  our  city  will  do  justice  to  the  memory  of  all  those 
who  have  struggled  through  so  many  difficulties  to  make  what 
was  lately  a morass  and  forest,  the  abode  of  reptiles,  wild 
beasts,  and  savages,  a suitable  habitation  for  legislators,  am- 
bassadors, presidents,  ministers,  and  strangers  of  distinction. 
In  that  day,  when  our  eyes  shall  be  closed,  and  others  shall 
look  with  delight  on  the  majestic  Potomac’s  placid  stream, 
covered  with  the  riches  of  the  east  and  the  west,  the  beautiful 
surrounding  heights  (now  covered  with  woods)  studded  with 
elegant  villas  ; the  grand  canal  pouring  into  the  city  the  pro- 
duce of  the  west;  when  all  private  jealousies  shall  have  entirely 
ceased,  and  the  character  of  every  man  who  has  contributed 
to  the  rise  and  progress  of  our  city  shall  be  estimated  by  the 
good  he  has  done — the  names  of  Washington,  John  Adams, 
Jefferson,  Madison,  Monroe,  J.  Q.  Adams,  and  Jackson,  &ic. 
will  be  recorded  as  the  great  patrons  of  the  city ; those  of 
Carroll,  Burns,  Young,  &c,  the  liberal  donors;  Major  L’En- 
fant, for  his  genius  in  planning  the  city  ; Ellicott,  Roberdeau, 
and  the  Kings,  in  laying  it  out;  Thornton,  Hadfield,  Hallett, 
Latrobe,  and  Hoban,  for  their  ingenious  and  chaste  designs ; 
and  Blagden,  Brown,  Lenox,  and  Andre,  for  their  good  exe- 
cution. To  the  enlightened  efforts  of  Judge  Thompson,  of 
Pennsylvania,  (now  no  more,)  when  he  was  in  congress,  we 
owe  the  erection  of  the  penitentiary,  and  the  consequent  hu- 
mane code  of  criminal  laws,  which  was  afterward  carried 
through  by  the  profound  jurisconsult,  the  lamented  Doddridge, 
and  his  liberal  coadjutors.  To  Major  Eaton,  also,  when  he 
was  in  the  senate,  the  city  is  indebted  for  his  steady  friend- 
ship ; and  to  General  Chambers,  for  his  successful  exertions 
in  effecting  various  valuable  appropriations  for  its  benefit. 
There  are  others  of  both  houses  of  congress  who  might  be 
mentioned  with  gratitude  ; and  among  the  patriots  who  have 
contributed  to  the  useful  institutions  of  the  city,  may  be  ranked 


340 


John  Trumbull. 


a number  now  living*  of  our  own  citizens,  whose  names  may 
hereafter  be  recorded  as  its  benefactors. 

“ The  plan  of  the  city  was  made  by  Major  L’Enfant,  a 
French  officer  of  great  talents  and  of  singular  habits  ; who 
was  too  proud  to  receive  such  a compensation  for  his  services 
as  his  friends  and  President  Monroe  thought  just,  (because 
less  than  what  he  claimed,)  yet  accepted  an  eleemosynary  sup- 
port from  Mr.  Digges  and  others,  till  his  death.  The  site  of 
the  capitol,  as  well  as  that  of  the  city,  was  selected  by  General 
Washington  himself.” 

Major  L’Enfant  was  of  ordinary  appearance,  except  that 
he  had  an  abstracted  manner  and  carriage  in  public.  It  ap- 
pears that  he  had  the  irritability  belonging  to  ambition,  but 
which  is  falsely  made  appropriate  to  genius ; and  that  he  thought 
himself  wronged.  That  he  died  poor  is  too  certain. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Mr.Trumbull’s  parentage — education — enters  Harvard  college — copies  Smybert’s 
Cardinal  Bentivoglio — first  visit  to  Copley — enters  the  army  to  avoid  the  pul- 
pit-stationed as  an  adjutant  at  Roxbury— becomes  one  of  Washington’s  fam- 
ily— appointed  a major  of  brigade— Gates  and  Schuyler — Mr. Trumbull,  deputy 
adjutant  general — goes  to  Rhode  Island,  and  resigns  his  commission,  March, 
1777 — studies  painting  in  Boston  until  1779 — goes  to  London  in  1780— studies 
with  West- --is  arrested  as  a spy. 


JOHN  TRUMBULL— 1789. 

It  will  be  seen,  by  the  following  pages,  that  this  gentleman 
made  his  first  effort  at  historical  composition  in  the  year  1774, 
and  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  But  as  I take  the  time  of  each 
artist’s  professional  exertions , in  this  country , as  the  period 
for  introducing  his  biography  in  my  work,  I must  date  that 
of  Mr.  Trumbull  from  17S9,  the  time  at  which  he  returned 
from  his  second  visit  to  Europe,  and  appeared  professionally 
in  America.  T his  painter  was  emphatically  well-born  ; and 
we  shall  see  that  he  reaped,  as  is  generally  the  case,  through 
life,  the  advantages  resulting  from  the  accident. 

The  many  biographical  sketches  which  have  been  given  to 
the  world  of  Mr.  Trumbull  afford  me  ample  materials  for  my 
work,  when  combined  with  my  own  personal  knowledge  and 
the  printed  documents  published  with  his  name  as  author. — 
But  I shall  principally  rely  upon  a narrative  communicated 
by  Mr.  Trumbull  to  Mr.  James  Herring,  secretary  of  the 
American  Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  of  which  Mr.  Trumbull  is 


Governor  Trumbull. 


341 


president,  for  the  purpose  of  publication.  This  narrative  I 
shall  accompany  with  such  remarks  as  may  be  suggested  by 
it,  and  facts  within  my  own  knowledge. 

The  narrative  says  of  the  painter’s  ancestors  : — “Two  bro- 
thers first  settled  in  Massachusetts  about  1630.  One  or  both 
of  them  removed  to  what  is  now  Enfield,  Connecticut.  John 
Trumbull  (the  subject  of  the  narrative)  was  born  in  Lebanon, 
Connecticut,  on  the  6th  of  June,  1756.  He  was  the  son  of 
Jonathan  Trumbull,  first  governor  of  the  state  of  Connecticut 
of  that  name.”  I presume  this  alludes  to  the  painter’s  bro- 
ther Jonathan,  who  was  afterwards  governor  of  the  state  : his 
father  was  first  governor  of  Connecticut  as  an  independent 
state,  and  had  the  additional  honour  of  guiding  her  through 
the  storms  of  the  Revolution. 

The  narrative  proceeds  : — “ His  mother’s  name  was  Faith 
Robinson,  the  fifth  in  descent  from  the  famous  John  Robin- 
son, often  called  the  father  of  the  Pilgrims,  who  died  in  Hol- 
land, but  whose  son  came  into  this  country  in  the  spring  of 
1621.  The  painter’s  ancestors  resided  in  the  county  of 
Springfield,  Massachusetts,  until  1690,  when  his  grandfather 
removed  to  Lebanon.  The  little  boy  had  a feeble  infancy, 
but  recovered  when  about  three  years  old. 

In  the  National  Portrait  Gallery  Mr.  Herring  says,  “ The 
carelessness  or  ignorance  of  the  family  physician  had  nearly 
consigned  our  infant  genius  to  a life  of  idiocy  or  an  early 
grave.  After  being  afflicted  with  convulsions  nine  months,  it 
was  discovered  that  the  bones  of  his  skull  had  been  allowed  to 
remain  lapped  over  each  other  from  his  birth  : but  by  skilful 
applications  and  maternal  care  they  were  adjusted ; and,  as 
we  have  heard  him  express  it  with  filial  veneration,  “ he  owed 
his  life  a second  time  to  his  mother.” 

“ At  Lebanon  he  went  to  school  to  Nathan  Tisdale,  who 
kept  one  of  the  best  schools  of  that  or  any  other  period,  and 
whose  reputation  brought  to  his  school  youth  from  the  south- 
ern colonies  and  from  the  West  Indies.  He  received,  under 
the  tuition  of  this  gentleman,  an  excellent  education,  and  en- 
tered the  junior  class  at  Harvard  in  January,  1771  or  2,  and 
graduated  in  1793,  “ at  the  age  of  seventeen.  This  early 
entrance  at  college  was,  as  he  considers,  one  of  the  misfortunes 
of  his  life : he  found  himself  a better  scholar  than  those  with 
whom  he  was  associated,  and  he  became  idle  ; but,  by  way  of 
amusement,  he  frequently  visited  a French  family  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood which  had  been  banished  from  Acadie,  a respecta- 
ble family  in  humble  life,  from  whom  he  obtained  a sufficient 
knowledge  of  the  French  language  to  read  and  write  it.  He 


342  Early  desire  to  devote  himself  to  painting. 

ransacked  the  college  library  for  books  on  the  arts : among 
others  he  found  Brook  Taylor’s  ‘Jesuit’s  Perspective  made 
easy.’  This  work  he  studied  thoroughly,  and  copied  all  the 
diagrams  : he  also  copied  a picture  which  the  college  pos- 
sessed of  an  irruption  of  Mount  Vesuvius,  painted  by  some 
Italian  ; and  copied  a copy  of  Vandyke,  the  head  of  Cardinal 
Bentivoglio,  and  Nicholas  Coypell’s  Rebecca  at  the  Well. — 
He  copied  them  in  oil.  He  got  his  colours  from  a house- 
painter.” 

The  advantages  flowing  from  being  well-born  gave  to 
young  Trumbull  one  of  the  best  educations  the  country  could 
furnish.  These  advantages  are  no  trifles,  however  they  may 
be  sneered  at  by  those  who  become  leaders  in  the  world’s  af- 
fairs by  their  own  energies,  unassisted  by  wealth  or  ancestry. 
In  the  year  1773,  and  at  the  early  age  of  seventeen,  he  had 
graduated  at  college,  and  had  received  instruction  from  the 
works  of  Smybert  and  Copley  in  that  career  he  wished  to 
pursue.  The  head  of  Cardinal  Bentivoglio,  here  mentioned, 
is  the  same  which  Allston  says  first  gave  him  an  idea  of  co- 
louring. The  amanuensis  proceeds  : — 

“ He  got,  before  he  went  to  college,  a book  called  the 
Handmaid  to  the  Arts.  He  had  somewhere  picked  up  the 
title  page,  and  requested  his  brother-in-law  to  send  to  Lon- 
don for  the  book.  Copley  was  then  in  Boston,  and  young 
Trumbull’s  first  visit  to  that  distinguished  artist  happened  to 
be  made  at  a time  when  he  was  entertaining  his  friends,  shortly 
after  his  marriage.  He  was  dressed  on  the  occasion  in  a suit 
of  crimson  velvet  and  gold  buttons ; and  the  elegance  of  his 
style  and  his  high  repute,  impressed  the  future  artist  with 
grand  ideas  of  the  life  of  a painter.” 

The  works  of  Smybert,  Blackburn  and  Copley,  at  Boston, 
so  immediately  under  the  eye  of  the  young  man,  doubtless 
strengthened  his  desire  to  become  a painter  ; and  on  his  re- 
turn to  Lebanon  he  made  his  first  attempt  at  composition. — 
The  narrative  proceeds  thus  : — • 

“ After  leaving  college  he  painted  the  Battle  of  Cannae, 
which  shows  the  bent  of  his  mind,  being  particularly  struck 
with  the  character  of  Paulus  Emilius.  This  picture  is  now 
at  Yale  College.  He  painted  several  other  pictures  ; among 
them  one  of  Brutus  condemning  his  sons.  What  has  become 
of  that  is  unknown.  Very  soon  after,  all  other  subjects  were 
absorbed  in  the  stirring  incidents  of  the  times.” 

“ His  father  wished  him  to  be  a clergyman  ; he  did  not  like 
it — his  object  was  to  be  a painter.  He  hoped,  that  by  being 
active  in  the  political  commotion  of  the  time  he  should  get 


343 


Enters  the  army  to  avoid  the  pulpit . 

clear  of  being  a clergyman.  He  obtained  a book  on  military 
tactics  ; he  was  made  an  adjutant  of  militia  before  he  had  ever 
seen  a regimental  line  formed  ; and  a few  days  before  the  re- 
view was  to  take  place,  the  battle  of  Lexington  took  place  ; 
and  his  mock  adjutancy  became  a real  one  of  the  first  Con- 
necticut regiment  which  was  stationed  at  Roxbury,  under 
General  Spencer.” 

Boston  and  its  environs  had  become  the  seat  of  warfare, 
and  the  good  old  Governor  Jonathan  Trumbull  was  not  back- 
ward in  forwarding  troops  to  the  scene  of  conflict,  in  support 
of  his  country’s  rights.  Thus  we  see  that  the  young  painter, 
glad  to  escape  from  the  threatened  prospect  of  a pulpit,  at  the 
age  of  nineteen  was  enrolled  as  an  adjutant,  and  marched  to 
join  the  undisciplined  forces  which  were  assembling  round  the 
head  quarters  of  General  Gage. 

On  the  17th  of  June,  1775,  was  fought  the  memorable  bat- 
tle of  Breed’s-hill,  (commonly  called  Bunker’s  Hill,)  at  which 
time  the  young  adjutant  was  stationed  with  his  regiment  at 
Roxbury.  In  the  catalogue  of  his  painting,  which  he  publish- 
ed in  1831,  after  describing  his  beautiful  small  picture  called 
“ The  Battle  of  Bunker’s  Hill,”  he  says,  “ The  artist  was  on 
that  day,  adjutant  of  the  first  regiment  of  the  Connecticut 
troops,  stationed  at  Roxbury,  and  saw  the  action  from  that 
point.”  This  he  repeats  in  1832  in  the  catalogue  written  for 
Yale  College,  where  the  picture  is  deposited. 

A foreigner,  or  a person  not  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
topography  of  the  town  of  Boston,  and  the  neighbouring  vil- 
lages, might  suppose  that  the  painter  meant  to  say,  that  he 
saw  the  battle  he  shows  us  in  his  admirable  picture.  This  he 
could  not  mean.  Roxbury  is  to  the  south  of  Boston,  and  the 
scene  of  action  on  the  north.  From  Roxbury  to  Breed’s-hill 
is  three,  or  perhaps  four  miles ; the  town  of  Boston,  (the  tri- 
mountain town,)  with  its  three  hills,  then  towering  undimi- 
nished, in  mid-way  between.  Boston-neck  is  on  the  south, 
and  part  of  the  waters  of  the  bay  on  the  north  of  the  elevated 
ground  on  which  the  town  stands.  The  British  ships  of  war 
added  the  smoke  of  their  guns  to  that  of  the  combatants,  and 
of  the  burning  village  of  Charlestown.  And  all  these  enter- 
vened  between  the  painter  and  the  battle.  The  inhabitants  of 
the  north  side  of  Boston  might  see  the  landing  of  the  British 
troops,  and  some  of  the  movements  on  the  hill,  but  a person  at 
Roxbury,  or  at  any  point  south  of  Boston-neck,  could  only 
know  that  a battle  was  being  fought,  by  the  noise  of  guns, 
and  the  clouds  of  smoke  proceeding  from  the  combatants, 


344  An  adjutant  at  Roxbury. 

the  ships,  the  floating  batteries,  and  the  conflagration  of 
Charlestown. 

In  July,  General  Washington  arrived  at  Cambridge,  and 
took  command  of  the  troops  which  were  beleaguering  Boston. 
Mr.  Herring  thus  continues  his  narrative  as  dictated  by  Mr. 
Trumbull  : — 

“ There,”  that  is  with  the  army,  “ his  drawing  became  first 
of  use  to  him.  General  Washington  was  desirous  to  obtain  a 
draft  of  the  enemy’s  works,  and  hearing  that  Trumbull  could 
draw,  he  was  requested  to  draw  a plan  of  their  works,  but  be- 
fore he  had  proceeded  far,  a deserter  came — the  man  could 
draw  a little  himself,  and  he  completed  a rude  plan  which  con- 
firmed Trumbull  so  far  as  he  had  gone,  but  rendered  another 
unnecessary,  (whose  information  assisted  him  to  complete  the 
plan  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  commander-in-chief,  and  proba- 
bly led)  to  his  appointment  of  aid  to  him — but  it  showed  the 
correctness  of  his  drawing — he  had  gone  near  enough  to  count 
every  gun  and  ascertain  their  situation  exactly.” 

Previously  to  having  seen  this  (rather  confused)  account  of 
the  immediate  causes,  which  transferred  the  young  adjutant  to 
the  family  of  the  general,  we  had  supposed  that  it  was  a com- 
pliment paid  by  Washington,  to  Governor  Trumbull,  but  it 
seems  not. 

“In  August  1775,”  continues  the  narrative,  he  was 
appointed  aid  to  the  commander-in-chief,  and  after  serving  in 
that  capacity  some  two  or  three  months,  he  was  appointed 
major  of  brigade,  and  in  that  situation  he  became  more  parti- 
cularly known  to  the  adjutant-general  Gates,  whose  observa- 
tion of  the  accuracy  of  the  returns  rendered  by  Trumbull, 
induced  him  the  year  following  to  offer  him  the  office  of 
adjutant-general  of  the  Northern  Department  under  his  com- 
mand, and  which  he  accepted.”* 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  the  amanuensis  misunder- 
stood Mr.  Trumbull  as  to  the  appointment  of  adjutant-gene- 
ral, only  that  Mr.  Trumbull,  in  a letter  published  January 
7th,  1830,  in  the  New-York  American,  addressed  to  the  Hon. 
M.  Wilde,  says  the  same  thing  in  the  following  words  : “ In 
July  1776,  I was  appointed  adjutant-general  of  the  Northern 
Department  with  the  rank  of  colonel,  under  the  command  of 
General  Gates.”  Now,  General  Schuyler  was  the  commander 
of  the  Northern  Department  until  August  1777,  which  was 
four  months  after  Mr.  Trumbull  had  resigned  his  commission 


* Gates  was  appointed  a major-general  in  May  1776,  and  in  June  following,  to 
the  command  of  the  army  in  Canada.  He  never  was  appointed  to  command  the 
army  of  the  north.  For  the  aids  of  the  commander  in  chief  at  this  time,  see 
Washington’s  letters. 


Gates , the  enemy  of  W ashington  and  Schuyler.  345 

of  deputy-adjutant-general,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter,  and 
retired  from  military  life.* 

The  narrative  proceeds  thus  : “ He  then  went  with  the 

army  to  New-York,  stopping  a day  or  two  with  his  father, 
which  was  the  only  leave  of  absence  he  had  while  in  the  ser- 
vice. Left  New-York  on  the  20th  of  June  1776,  with 
General  Gates,  at  which  date  his  rank  of  colonel  and  adjutant- 
general  was  presumed  to  have  commenced.  He  was  ten  days 
getting  to  Albany  in  a sloop.  Gates  was  at  this  time  expected 
to  have  proceeded  to  Canada,  but  he  met  the  army  driven  out, 
and  thus  caused  some  confusion  in  the  command.” 

There  is  an  interlineation  after  the  word  Canada  of  these 
words,  “ At  that  time  probably  the  Northern  Department.” 
Not  so.  Gates,  who  was  a presuming  and  assuming  man,  and 
the  enemy  of  Washington  and  Schuyler,  showed  his  disposi- 
tion so  plainly  on  his  appointment  to  command  in  Canada, 
that  congress  passed  a resolution  “ that  they  had  no  design  to 
invest  him  with  a superior  command  to  Schuyler,  while  the 
troops  were  within  the  bounds  of  the  States.”  Mr.  Sparks 
says,  “ the  instructions  of  General  Gates  were  too  explicit  to 
raise  a doubt  in  any  other  mind  than  his  own.”  Though 
congress  decided  against  his  pretensions,  there  was  a New 
England  party  in  that  body  and  elsewhere,  who  encouraged 
him  in  his  intrigues  to  overthrow  Schuyler  and  Washington. 

General  Philip  Schuyler  was  commander  of  the  Northern 
Department  from  July  1775  to  August  1777,  four  or  five  months 
after  Mr.  Trumbull  retired  to  private  life.  General  Schuyler 
did  at  one  moment  tender  his  resignation  to  congress,  but  it 
was  several  months  after  the  date  of  Mr.  Trumbull’s  voy- 


* For  the  time  of  Mr.  Trumbull’s  resignation,  and  at  which  congress  accepted 
his  commission  of  deputy-adjutant-general,  the  reader  may  see  the  minutes  of 
congress,  March  1777.  For  the  time  during  which  General  Schuyler  held  the 
command  of  the  Northern  Department,  see  Chancellor  Kent’s  discourse  before 
the  Historical  Society,  1826.  General  Schuyler  held  the  command  of  the  North- 
ern Department  when  Burgoyne’s  advance  induced  Sinclair  to  evacuate  Ticon- 
deroga,  and  Schuyler  met  that  news  on  the  upper  Hudson,  while  using  the  utmost 
diligence  and  judgment  to  oppose  the  enemy  ; likewise  see  Marshall’s  Wash- 
ington, Vol.  III.  p.  247.  It  will  be  seen  hereafter  that  Mr.  Trumbull  had  acted  in 
the  adjutant-general’s  department  without  a commission,  and  that  on  receiving 
it  he  enclosed  it  in,  a letter,  the  receipt  of  which  is  acknowledged  on  the  minutes 
of  congress,  of  March  1777,  as  a letter  enclosing  the  commission  of  John 
Trumbull,  deputy-adjutant-general,  which  commission,  we  shall  see,  was  sent 
back  by  him,  not  because  it  was  deficient  in  rank,  but  because  it  was  dated  in 
September,  1776,  whereas  he  thought  it  ought  to  have  been  dated  in  June. 
I further  remark  that  the  British  were  driven  from  Boston  in  March  1776,  and 
took  possession  of  New-York  in  September,  and  that  Mr.  Trumbull  tells  Mr. 
Wilde  that  he  was  appointed  adjutant-general  of  the  Northern  Dejxirtnicn 
with  the  rank  of  colonel,  in  July  1776. 

44 


346  Schuyler  commander  of  the  northern  department. 

age  to  Albany  with  Gates.  Congress  “ declared  that  they 
would  not  dispense  with  his  services  during  the  then  situation 
of  affairs,  and  they  directed  the  president  to  request  him  to 
continue  in  his  command.”  (See  Kent  and  Marshall.)  Schuy- 
ler hadbeen  treated  unceremoniously  according  to  military  eti- 
quette; but  his  object  was  to  serve  his  country,  not  himself 
alone : he  made  allowances  for  the  confusion  caused  by  the 
public  danger,  and  continued  in  his  command.  As  early 
as  September  1775,  he  had  proceeded  as  far  as  Isle  au 
Noix  with  intent  to  enter  Canada,  but  was  obliged,  by  severe 
illness,  to  leave  the  expedition  to  Montgomery.  While  that 
officer  wTas  employed  in  Canada,  Schuyler  was  called  to  oppose 
the  tories  under  Johnson  ; and  in  January  1776,  he  was 
ordered,  by  congress,  to  have  the  St.  Lawrence  explored  and 
to  fortify  Ticonderoga.  In  February  he  was  ordered  to 
repair  to  New-York,  and  in  March  to  establish  his  head  quar- 
ters in  Albany  and  superintend  the  supplies  for  Canada ; and 
these  orders  were  renewed  April  and  May  1776.  (See  Journals 
of  congress,  vols.  I.  and  II.)  “ He  gave  life  and  vigour  to 
every  branch  of  the  service.”  (See  Kent,)  On  the  17th  of  June, 
he  was  ordered  to  clear  Wood-Creek,  and  to  build  armed  ves- 
sels for  the  mastery  of  the  lakes.  “ There  can  be  no  doubt,” 
says  Kent,  “ that  the  northern  frontier,  in  the  campaign  of 
of  1776,  was  indebted  for  its  extraordinary  quiet  and  security, 
to  the  ceaseless  activity  of  General  Schuyler.  General  Sulli- 
van had  the  command  of  the  Northern  or  Canadian  army,  and 
on  the  18th  of  June  1776,  received  orders  from  General 
Schuyler  to  embark  on  Lake  Champlain  for  Crown  Point. 
General  Gates  at  this  time  was  ordered  to  take  command  of 
the  Northern  or  Canadian  army,  (see  Marshall),  that  is,  of  the 
forces  that  had  been  commanded  by  Sullivan  under  the  orders 
of  Schuyler.  At  the  close  of  that  year  Schuyler  was  further  in- 
structed to  build  a floating  battery  on  the  lake,  and  a fort  on 
Mount  Independence,  and  also  to  strengthen  the  works  at  Fort 
Stanwix.”  In  the  campaign  of  1777,  Schuyler  made  all  the 
dispositions  to  receive  Burgoyne,  and  was  only  superseded  in 
consequence  of  Sinclair’s  evacuation  of  Ticonderoga,  and  that 
senseless,  popular  clamour  which  induced  the  appointment  of 
Gates,  in  August  1777,  long  after  Mr.  Trumbull’s  retirement 
from  military  life.  When  superseded  by  Gates  and  robbed  of 
his  well-earned  laurels,  General  Schuyler  still  continued  to 
serve  his  country.  The  Baroness  Reidesel’s  account  of  his 
behaviour,  at  the  capture  of  Burgoyne,  is  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful passages  of  history.  There  may  be  readers  who  will 
think  I “ travel  out  of  the  record”  in  this  brief  sketch  of  the 


347 


Mr.  Trumbull  at  Ticoncleroga. 

services  of  Phillip  Schuyler  ; but  I am  perfectly  satisfied  that 
I could  not  have  given  Mr.  Trumbull’s  narrative  without  this 
explanatory  comment,  and  left  the  fair  fame  of  a distinguished 
patriot  unsullied  by  doubts,  as  far  as  that  narrative  concerns 
the  affairs  of  the  northern  department. 

The  amanuensis  of  Mr.  Trumbull  proceeds: — “ He,”  that 
is,  Mr.  Trumbull,  “ proceeded  to  Ticonderoga.  He  was  the 
first  person  who  reconnoitered  Mount  Independence:”  a post 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  Congress  had  ordered,  near  the  close 
of  this  year,  General  Schuyler  to  fortify  ; “ which  he,” 

Trumbull,  “ soon  after  explored,  with  General  Wayne,  which 
led  to  its  occupation.  While  he  was  impressed  with  the  be- 
lief that  the  whole  position  of  the  army,  both  at  Ticonderoga 
and  Mount  Independence,  was  commanded  by  a height  situ- 
ated nearly  at  an  equal  distance  from  both  those  points,  being 
elevated  about  500  feet  higher  than  either  of  them,  and  at  the 
distance  of  about  a mile,  well  known  as  Mount  Defiance.  He 
mentioned  his  observation  at  the  dinner  table.  He  ventured 
to  advance  an  opinion,  that  their  entire  position  was  com- 
manded by  that  hill  ; but  they  universally  laughed  at  the  idea  : 
the  general  opinion  was,  that  it  was  too  distant,  even  if  an 
enemy  were  there.  Finding  argument  useless,  he  proposed 
settling  the  question  by  experiment.  As  the  commanding 
officer  of  artillery  was  proving  guns  at  the  most  remote  part 
of  Mount  Independence,  he,  the  next  morning,  caused  the  ex- 
periment to  be  made  with  a double-shotted  gun.  The  shot 
reached  near  the  summit  of  the  hill,  which  of  course  confirmed 
his  opinion.  In  the  afternoon  the  experiment  was  repeated, 
in  the  presence  of  the  officers,  with  a six-pounder,  from  the 
glacis  of  the  old  French  fort:  the  shot  reached  nearly  to  the 
summit.  Several  of  the  officers  afterwards  ascended  the  hill, 
and,  when  there,  it  w7as  the  unanimous  opinion,  that  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  ascending  with  a yoke  of  oxen,  and, 
of  course,  getting  cannon  to  the  summit.  Two  memoirs  were 
drawn  up  : one  setting  forth  the  expense  and  force  necessary  to 
maintain  the  post  as  then  occupied  ; for  which  it  was  shown 
ten  thousand  men  and  one  hundred  pieces  of  cannon  were  ne- 
cessary : the  other  was  grounded  on  the  proposition  to  aban- 
don the  whole,  and  establish  another  post  on  the  summit  of 
Mount  Defiance,  with  a force  of  five  hundred  men. 

“ This  suggestion  of  the  adjutant  general  was  not  acted 
upon  ; and  the  consequence  was,  that  the  next  campaign  Gen. 
St.  Clair  was  left  to  defend  the  original  lines  with  3000  men, 
and  the  first  movement  of  the  British  force  was  to  take  posses- 
sion of  Mount  Defiance  ; from  which,  according  to  their  ac- 


348 


The  wheat  and  the  chaff  of  the  revolution . 

count,  they  could  observe  every  movement  of  the  Americans 
within  their  lines.  The  abandonment  of  the  entire  position 
became  immediately  necessary  ; and  St.  Clair  deserved  great 
praise  for  his  well  conducted  retreat,  by  which  the  army  was 
saved  from  capture,  and  became  the  nucleus  of  that  force 
which  afterwards  prostrated  the  British  power  in  the  northern 
department.” 

As  St.  Clair’s  retreat,  and  all  the  events  last-mentioned, 
took  place  after  Mr.  Trumbull  had  resigned,  gone  home,  and 
was  pursuing  his  studies  in  Boston,  we  are  as  well  qualified 
to  speak  of  them  as  far  as  facts  are  concerned,  as  he  can  be 
if  we  use  an  equal  degree  of  industry  in  the  investigation. 

The  people  of  the  United  States  have  been  habituated  to 
surround  with  a halo  every  head  presented  to  their  view  as 
that  of  a soldier  of  the  Revolution.  The  feeling  is  natural, 
and  has  its  origin  in  our  better  nature.  But  it  appears  to  me 
high  time  to  pass  the  grain  through  the  sieve  and  separate  it 
from  the  chaff  which  has  heretofore  claimed  equal  weight.  It 
is  time  and  high  time  that  we  should  discriminate,  and  teach 
our  children  to  discriminate,  between  the  mercenary  and  self- 
ish, who  took  up  arms  to  serve  themselves,  and  the  real  patri- 
otic soldier  of  the  Revolution.  There  are  people  who  cry 
“Huzza  for  the  revolutionary  soldier !”  when  the  name  of 
Gates  is  mentioned,  with  as  much  well  meant  good  will  as 
when  that  of  Schuyler  or  Washington  meets  their  ears,  (the 
men  whom  he  endeavoured  to  undermine  and  disgrace)  or 
that  of  Green,  who  saved  the  south  from  the  effects  of  his  im- 
becility. 

Washington,  speaking  of  his  army  at  Cambridge,  says, — - 
u Such  a dearth  of  public  spirit,  and  such  a want  of  virtue ! 
such  stock-jobbing,  and  felicity  at  all  the  low  arts  to  obtain 
advantages  in  this  great  change  of  military  arrangement,  I 
never  saw  before,  and  pray  God’s  mercy  that  I may  never  see 
again.”  And  again  “ such  a mercenary  spirit  pervades  the 
whole,  that  I should  not  be  surprised  at  any  disaster  that  might 
happen.”  Yet  these  blasted  and  worthless  shoots  are  bound  up 
in  the  same  sheaf  with  the  wholesome  ears  from  which  we  de- 
rive our  bread.  Men  who  only  thought  of  their  own  promo- 
tion and  emolument  are  confounded  with  the  gallant  Prescott 
and  his  companions  at  Breed’s  Hill — with  a Whitcomb,  who, 
having  a regiment,  and  being  omitted  in  the  new-modelling  of 
the  army,  encouraged  his  men  to  enlist  anew,  by  offering  to 
join  the  ranks  with  them — with  Brewer,  who,  being  appointed 
to  Whitcomb’s  command,  insisted  upon  resigning  it  to  him 
and  taking  an  inferior  station — with  the  many  glorious  names 
who  served  for  honour  and  their  country’s  good. 


349 


End  of  the  campaign  of  1776. 

It  may  be  my  task,  in  these  pages,  to  state  facts  which  will 
militate  against  the  preconceived  opinions  formed  of  indivi- 
duals ; but  I shall  do  it  conscientiously,  that  the  self  exalter 
may  not  occupy  the  ground  which  should  he  kept  clear  for  the 
man  of  real  worth. 

The  judgment  which  pointed  out  the  importance  of  Mount 
Defiance  is  highly  creditable  to  the  young  officer  ; but  there 
appears  to  be  no  cause  for  censuring  General  Schuyler.  It 
appears,  that  long  after  the  memorials  Mr. Trumbull  mentions, 
General  Schuyler  was  acting  under  the  immediate  orders  of 
Congress,  in  strengthening  Mount  Independence,  a part  of  the 
position  which  wras  thought  untenable.  I do  not  know  by 
whom  these  memorials  were  drawn  up  or  signed,  or  to  whom 
transmitted.  I know  that  if  Burgoyne  had  been  stopped  on 
Lake  Champlain,  as  Provost  was  in  1814,  he  could  have 
saved  his  army  by  retreat,  and  that  the  surrender  at  Saratoga 
would  not  have  taken  place.  And  I am  perfectly  convinced, 
(in  the  year  1834)  that  if  Philip  Schuyler  had  not  been  super- 
seded, Burgoyne  must  have  surrendered  to  him,  and  that 
without  any  convention.  I now  return  to  Mr.  Trumbull’s 
narrative,  and  to  the  summer  of  1776,  one  year  or  more  be- 
fore Schuyler  was  superseded  by  Gates. 

“ In  the  mean  time  the  adjutant  general,”  meaning  Mr. 
Trumbull,  “ had  remained  without  a commission.  This  ren- 
dered his  situation  peculiarly  painful  ; and  what  rendered  it 
more  so  was,  that  other  and  inferior  officers  did  receive  com- 
missions, giving  them  rank  equal  to  his  owm.” 

Here  there  is  a break  in  the  MSS.  with  a memorandum 
referring  Mr.  Herring  to  one  of  the  catalogues  published  by 
Mr.  Trumbull.  This  points  to  a passage  respecting  Gates’ 
command  of  the  northern  department,  which  we  have  already 
commented  upon  ; and  goes  on  to  the  defeat  of  the  American 
flotilla,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  was  constructed  by  Schuyler, 
under  the  immediate  orders  of  Congress,  and  which  was  en- 
trusted to  the  command  of  Arnold.  The  British,  commanded 
by  Carleton,  broke  through  this  impediment,  and  having  re- 
connoitered  Ticonderoga,  in  October,  1776,  retired  to  winter 
quarters. 

“ Thus,”  says  Mr.  Trumbull,  “ terminated  that  campaign, 
and  the  principal  part  of  the  disposable  force  moved  down  to 
Albany,  about  the  20th  of  November;”  where,  as  we  have 
seen,  General  Schuyler  had  been  ordered  by  Congress  to 
establish  his  head  quarters,  as  commander  of  the  northern  de- 
partment. “ General  Gates  received  orders  from  the  com- 
mander in  chief  to  join  him  with  all  his  disposable  force  be- 


350 


Mr.  Trumbull  resigns , March  1777. 

hind  the  Delaware.  He  moved  of  course  by  the  route  of  Eso- 
pus,  Hurley,  the  Minisink,  Sussex  Court  House,  Easton,  Beth- 
lehem, and  joined  Washington  at  Newtown,  Pennsylvania,  a 
few  days  before  the  battle  of  Trenton.  News  was  at  that  time 
received  that  the  British  had  landed  at  Newport,  Rhode 
Island,  with  a considerable  force.  General  Arnold  was  or- 
dered to  proceed  to  Rhode  Island  to  assume  the  command  of 
the  militia  to  oppose  them  ; and  Trumbull  was  ordered  to  pro- 
ceed with  him  as  adjutant  general.  The  head  quarters  were 
established  at  Providence  for  the  winter  ; and  there,  in  the 
month  of  March,  Colonel  Trumbull  received  his  commission, 
as  adjutant  general,  with  the  rank  of  Colonel  ; but  dated  in 
the  month  of  September  instead  of  the  month  of  June.” 

I have  already  shown  that  this  commission  was  that  of  deputy 
adjutant  general  by  reference  to  the  journals  of  Congress.  In 
a manuscript  memoir  in  Mr.  Trumbull’s  handwriting,  given 
for  publication  in  1817,  and  now  in  possession  of  Robert  Gil- 
mor,  Esq.,  he  speaks  of  himself  as  in  the  inferior  capacity.  In 
his  letter  to  Mr.  Wilde,  he  calls  himself  adjutant  general,  and 
the  next  year,  in  a memoir  appended  to  a catalogue  of  his  pic- 
tures, published  in  1831,  he  says  his  appointment  was  deputy 
adjutant  general,  yet  in  1833,  when  dictating  to  Mr.  Herring, 
he  claims  the  full  rank.  I have  quoted  the  passage  from  the 
minutes  of  Congress,  which  settles  this  point.  After  mention- 
ing the  receipt  of  the  commission,  the  narrative  proceeds: 

“ By  whatever  accident  or  cause  is  unknown,  but  this  added 
to  the  chagrin  and  vexation  of  the  officer  commissioned,  and 
within  an  hour  he  returned  it  under  cover  to  the  president  of 
Congress,  accompanied  wdth  a letter,  perhaps  too  concise  and 
laconic,  stating  the  impossibility  of  serving,  unless  the  date 
was  altered,  to  correspond  with  the  date  of  his  actual  service. 
A correspondence  of  some  length  ensued,  which  terminated 
after  some  weeks,  in  the  acceptance  of  the  resignation,  and 
thus  his  military  career  terminated.” 

As  the  commission  was  received  in  Rhode  Island  during 
March,  and  the  resignation  accepted  in  the  same  month,  the 
above  mentioned  correspondence  could  not  have  be£n  of  much 
length  or  duration.  Although  to  this  abandonment  of  military 
life,  we  are  indebted  for  one  of  our  most  distinguished  artists, 
I cannot  but  think  that  the  young  gentleman  made  a great  mis- 
take even  upon  the  narrow  calculation  of  self-interest.  Before 
the  age  of  twenty-one  he  had  been  advanced  from  the  grade  of 
adjutant  of  a regiment,  to  that  of  deputy  adjutant  general,  and 
appears  to  have  been  doing  the  duty  as  principal  at  the  post  to 
which  he  was  assigned,  yet  for  a difference  of  dates  from  June 


351 


Embarks  f or  Europe , May  1780. 

or  July  20th,  (for  he  has  stated  both  as  the  date  of  appoint- 
ment) and  some  day  in  September,  he  abandoned  the  cause  of 
his  country,  at  the  time  that  44  tried  men’s  souls,”  and  gave  up 
prospects,  as  fair  as  any  young  man  of  the  period  could  have, 
of  being  an  honourable  agent  in  the  great  events  which 
followed. 

“He  then,”  continues  his  amanuensis,  “returned  to  Leba- 
non, (to  the  object  of  his  first  love,  he  said,)  and  afterward 
went  to  Boston  to  profit  by  studying  the  works  of  Copley  and 
others,  where  he  remained  until  1779,  occupying  the  room 
which  had  been  built  by  Smybert,  in  which  remained  many  of 
his  works.*  He  there  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  John 
Temple,  afterwards  first  consul  general  of  Great  Britain  to 
the  United  States,  who  was  connected  with  the  families  of 
Grenville  and  Temple,  and  by  marriage  with  the  family  of 
Governor  Bowdoin  in  the  United  States,  through  him  he 
ascertained  the  possibility  of  his  going  in  safety  to  London, 
to  study  his  profession  under  Mr.  West.  In  May  1780,  he 
embarked  for  France,  and  after  a short  stay  at  Paris  he 
found  his  way  to  London,  in  August,  by  the  way  of  Ostend. 
He  was  kindly  received  by  Mr.  West,  to  whom  he  had  a letter 
of  introduction  from  Doctor  Franklin,  and  from  whom  he  re- 
ceived the  most  liberal  instruction. 

“ Mr.  West  asked  Trumbull  if  he  brought  any  specimen  of 
his  work,  and  being  answered  in  the  negative,  told  him  to  copy 
some  one  of  his  pictures  and  bring  it  to  him.  4 Go  into  that 
room,  where  you  will  find  Mr.  Stuart  painting,  and  choose 
something  to  copy.’  Trumbull  selected  one,  (by  an  old  mas- 
ter,) the  copy  of  which  is  with  him  still.  West  asked  him  if 
he  knew  what  he  had  chosen,  he  said,  no.  West  told  him, 
adding,  4 You  have  made  a good  choice  ; if  you  can  copy  that, 
I shall  think  well  of  you.’  ” The  picture  was  Raphael’s 
44  Madonna  della  sedia.”  This  anecdote  is  given  from  Mr. 
Herring,  but  is  not  in  the  MS.  narrative,  which  proceeds 
thus : — “ There  he  pursued  his  studies  uninterruptedly  for 
about  three  months,  to  the  middle  of  November.  At  that  time 
the  news  of  the  death  of  Major  Andre  was  received,  and  oc- 


* I am  sorry  to  see  in  a work  written  by  Mr.  Trumbull,  and  published  in 
1832,  such  assertions  as  the  following  respecting  the  motives  which  induced 
him  to  study  painting.  “Ardently  anticipating  the  vast  consequences  of  the 
revolution,  and  the  future  greatness  of  his  country  ; and  having  a natural  taste 
for  drawing,  in  which  he  had  already  made  some  progress,  Colonel  Trumbull 
resolved  to  cultivate  that  talent,  with  the  hope  of  thus  binding  his  name  to 
the  great  events  of  the  time,  by  becoming  the  graphic  historiographer  of  them 
and  of  his  early  comrades.  With  this  view  he  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of 
the  art  of  painting,  first  in  America,  and  afterwards  in  Europe.” 


352  Arrested  in  London  as  a spy. 

casioned  a violent  irritation  in  the  public  mind.  It  was  his 
misfortune  to  lodge  in  the  same  house  with  another  American 
gentleman,  who  had  been  an  officer,  against  whom  a warrant 
had  been  issued  to  apprehend  him  for  high  treason.  Instruc- 
tions had  been  given  to  the  officer  who  was  to  execute  the 
warrant,  to  arrest,  ad  interim,  the  painter,  and  secure  his  pa- 
pers, in  expectation  of  finding  something  of  importance.  The 
following  day  he  was  examined  before  the  principal  magis- 
trates of  the  police,  and  in  the  course  of  the  examination 
something  occurred  which  wounded  his  military  pride,  and 
called  forth  an  address  to  this  effect : — 1 Gentlemen,  you  are 
rude.  You  appear  to  be  more  in  the  habit  of  examining 
pickpockets  and  highwaymen  than  gentlemen.  I will  cut  this 
examination  short,  gentlemen,  by  telling  you  who  I am,  and 
what  I am.  I am  the  son  of  him  you  call  the  rebel  governor 
of  Connecticut,  and  I have  been  an  aid-de-camp  to  him  you 
call  the  rebel  General  Washington.  I know  that  in  saying 
this  I put  my  life  in  your  hands.  You  will  treat  me  as  you 
please — remembering,  that  as  you  treat  me,  so  will  those 
gentlemen  whom  I have  named  treat  your  countrymen  who 
are  their  prisoners,  and  in  their  power.’  ” 

Mr.  Trumbull  ought  to  have  known,  that  if  his  life  was  in 
danger,  it  was  not  as  a prisoner  of  war,  but  as  a spy ; and 
that  the  circumstance  of  his  being  the  son  of  Governor  Trum- 
bull, and  having  been  in  the  army,  could  not  be  kept  from  the 
knowledge  of  those  who  had  arrested  him : so  that  what  he 
avowed  did  not  put  his  life  in  the  hands  of  the  police  magis- 
trates ; and  his  threat  was  utterly  ineffective  and  irrelevant. 
The  narration  proceeds  : — “ This,  perhaps  imprudent,  decla- 
ration had,  however,  a good  effect.  He  was  treated  with 
greater  civility.  He  was,  however,  confined,  and  remained 
in  confinement  until  the  month  of  June  following,  more  than 
eight  months.” 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Mr.  West’s  conduct  on  the  arrest  of  Trumbull— pictures  painted  during  his  con- 
finement—Release  and  return  to  America— Embarks  for  England  again  in  1783, 
and  resumes  his  studies  with  West— 1786,  Pictures  of  Bunker’s  Hill  and  Mont- 
gomery— Picture  of  the  “Sortie” — Goes  to  Paris,  1787—Paints  the  beautiful 
heads  for  the  “ Surrender  of  Cornwallis” — Returns  to  America  in  1789 — Pic- 
tures painted  from  1789  to  1793. 

Mr.  Trumbull  was  arrested  on  the  19th  of  November,  and 
released  the  June  following.  Some  other  particulars,  con- 
nected with  the  arrest  and  examination,  were  communicated 


353 


Thompson , Count  Rumford. 

to  Mr.  Herring,  which  are  not  noticed  in  the  manuscript. 
Difficulties  occurred  at  the  police  respecting  a place  of  con- 
finement, the  prisons  of  London  having  been  destroyed  by 
the  rioters  in  June  1780,  and  a message  being  sent  to  the 
secretary  of  state’s  office,  Trumbull  had  the  choice  of  the  place 
left  to  himself. 

However  much  Mr.  Trumbull  may  have  regretted  the  resig- 
nation of  his  commission  of  deputy  adjutant  general,  he  pro- 
bably now  regretted  still  more  that  he  had  taken  up  his  abode 
in  the  capital  of  Great  Britain,  while  those  with  whom  he  had 
been  engaged  were  struggling  for  life  and  liberty  against  that 
mighty  power.  I remember  distinctly  all  the  circumstances 
of  this  incident,  as  detailed  to  several  listeners  by  Mr.  Trum- 
bull many  years  ago.  He  then  attributed  his  arrest  to  Thomp- 
son, afterward  Count  Rumford,  saying  that  this  man  had 
applied  for  a commission  in  the  rebel  army  before  Boston,  and 
had  been  refused — that  afterward  he  joined  the  English,  and 
was,  at  the  time  of  Trumbull’s  arrest,  in  the  secretary  of 
state’s  office.  He  gave  formal  notice  to  the  secretary  of  state, 
that  John  Trumbull,  son  to  the  governor  of  Connecticut,  and 
known  to  have  served  in  the  rebel  army,  was  in  London.  It 
is  well  known  that  Thompson  was  afterward  under-secretary 
of  state  ; that  he  procured  an  appointment  for  himself  as  colo- 
nel of  a regiment  of  horse  to  be  raised  in  America ; and  that 
he  came  to  this  country,  and  staid  long  enough  to  secure  the 
emoluments  appertaining  to  his  appointment,  serving  with  his 
regiment  in  the  south.  Although  Mr.  Trumbull  had  received 
assurances  previous  to  leaving  Boston  that  he  would  not  be 
molested,  this  formal  information  could  not  be  passed  over, 
and  he  was  arrested.  This  was  in  November,  1780;  and 
Mr.  T rumbull  stated,  that  the  irritation  caused  in  England  by 
the  recent  execution  of  the  spy,  Major  Andre,  and  the  circum- 
stance that  the  young  painter  had  served  in  the  adjutant  gene- 
ral’s department  of  the  rebel  army,  caused  alarm  to  his  friends; 
and  caused  Mr.  West,  immediately  on  hearing  of  the  arrest, 
to  wait  upon  the  king,  and  represent  the  facts  of  his  pupil’s  for- 
mer and  present  situation  ; the  long  time  which  had  intervened 
between  his  quitting  the  rebel  army  and  his  coming  to  England ; 
and  his  present  entire  devotedness  to  the  study  of  the  fine  arts. 
Finally,  by  pledging  himself  for  the  young  man’s  good  dispo- 
sition, the  benevolent  Benjamin  obtained  the  king’s  assurance 
that  no  farther  interruption  to  the  studies  of  the  young  painter 
should  take  place  than  what  the  forms  of  office  required,  and 
that  at  all  events  his  personal  safety  should  be  fully  attended 
to ; and  at  the  worst — his  life  be  perfectly  safe.  I give  this 

45 


354 


Mr.  West's  conduct  and  motives. 


from  memory — but  in  the  anecdote  told  of  Thompson,  and 
the  statement  of  his  agency  in  the  arrest,  1 cannot  be  mistaken. 
I might  have  forgotten  it — -I  could  not  have  invented  it ; and 
I am  certain  that  West’s  application  to  George  the  third  was 
not  attributed  to  selfish  motives  at  the  time  I first  heard  of  it. 

Another  account  of  this  aflair  may  be  found  in  Stuart’s 
“ Three  Years’  Residence  in  America,”  where,  after  stating 
that  the  painter  “ was  apprehended  and  sent  to  the  tower , on 
the  ground  that  he  was  a spy,”  the  author  gives  the  following 
in  the  words  of  Trumbull: 

“ I was  arrested  at  twelve  o’clock  at  night  of  the  19th  of 
November,  in  London,  on  suspicion  of  high  treason.  I was 
then  principally  occupied  in  studying  the  art  of  painting  un- 
der Mr.  West.  Mr.  West  well  knew  that  his  attachment  to 
his  native  country  gave  offence  to  some  individuals  who  were 
about  the  king’s  person.  He  therefore  went  the  next  morning 
early  to  Buckingham  House,  and  requested  an  audience  of 
the  king.  It  was  granted  ; and  he  proceeded  to  state  the  ori- 
gin and  nature  of  his  acquaintance  with  me,  concluding  that, 
whatever  might  have  been  my  conduct  in  America,  he  could 
conscientiously  state  to  his  majesty,  that  since  my  arrival  in 
London  the  principal  part  of  almost  every  day  had  been  pass- 
ed under  his  eye,  in  the  assiduous  study  of  his  profession, 
leaving  little  or  no  time  for  any  pursuit  hostile  to  the  interests 
of  Great  Britain.  The  king,  after  a moment’s  hesitation, 
made  this  answer : 4 Mr.  West,  I have  known  you  long — I 
have  confided  in  you— I have  never  known  you  to  mislead 
me — 1 therefore  repose  implicit  confidence  in  the  representa- 
tion. This  young  gentleman  must  in  the  meantime  suffer  great 
anxiety.  He  is  in  the  power  of  the  laws,  and!  cannot  at  pre- 
sent interfere.  But  go  to  him,  and  assure  him  from  me,  that 
in  the  worst  possible  legal  result,  he  has  my  royal  word  that 
his  life  is  safe.’  Mr.  West  came  to  me  with  this  message 
immediately  ; and  you  may  well  believe  that  it  softened  essen- 
tially the  rigour  of  an  imprisonment  of  eight  months.” 

Here  the  motive  ascribed  to  Mr.  West’s  prompt  interference 
is  self.  To  screen  himself  from  any  injury  that  might  be  done 
him  by  the  44  individuals  about  the  king’s  person.”  I had 
hoped  that  this  might  have  been  a mistake  of  Mr.  Stuart’s, 
but  the  narrative  as  given  to  Mr.  Herring  for  publication  con- 
firms the  suggestion  1 44  On  hearing  this  adventure  the  ap- 

prehensions of  Mr.  West  were  aroused  ; for  he  well  knew  that 
he  had  enemies  about  the  person  of  the  king,  and  therefore 
hastened  to  the  palace  and  asked  an  audience,  which  was 
granted.  He  proceeded  to  state  to  the  king  his  personal 


Mr.  Trumbull's  release  and  return  home. 


355 


knowledge  of  the  conduct  of  Trumbull  while  in  London. — 
After  listening  to  him  patiently,  the  king  replied,  ‘ West,  I 
have  known  you  long,  and  I don’t  know  that  I have  received 
any  incorrect  information  from  you  on  any  subject ; I there- 
fore fully  believe  all  that  you  have  said  to  me  on  the  present 
occasion.  I sincerely  regret  the  situation  of  the  young  man  ; 
but  I cannot  do  any  thing  to  assist  him.  He  is  in  the  power 
of  the  law,  and  I cannot  interfere.  Are  his  parents  living  ?’ 
To  which  Mr.  West  answered  that  his  father  was.  ‘ Then  I 
most  sincerely  pity  him,’  said  the  king.  After  a moment’s 
pause,  he  continued,  ‘ Go  immediately  to  Mr.  Trumbull,  and 
give  him  my  royal  assurance  that  in  the  worst  possible  event 
of  the  law,  his  life  will  be  safe.’  The  assurance  of  course 
softened  in  a great  degree  the  rigours  of  a winter’s  confine- 
ment, and  enabled  him  to  proceed  with  his  studies.” 

It  was  during  this  confinement  that  Mr.  Trumbull,  among 
other  pictures,  copied  that  beautiful  copy  of  the  “ St.  Jerome,” 
which  is  mentioned  in  the  life  of  West  as  being  executed  by 
him  from  the  exquisite  original  of  Corregio,  at  Parma.  Mr. 
Trumbull’s  is  perhaps  equal  to  his  master’s,  and  certainly  one 
of  the  gems  of  the  art. 

There  is  something,  to  me,  inexpressibly  beautiful  in  the  tes- 
timony borne  to  West’s  character,  and  to  the  force  of  truth 
from  the  lips  of  one  whose  lips  were  unaccustomed  to  false- 
hood. This  interview  between  George  the  third  and  his  his- 
torical painter,  is  highly  honourable  to  both  ; and  the  account 
of  it  from  the  lips  or  pen  of  West  would  have  been  a treasure. 

“ In  June,”  proceeds  the  narrative,  “at  which  time  a turn 
had  taken  place  in  the  affairs  of  the  two  countries,  and  the 
government  began  to  relax  their  severity  ; Trumbull  was  ad- 
mitted to  bail  by  a special  order  of  the  king  in  council,  on 
condition  of  quitting  the  kingdom  within  thirty  days,  and  not 
to  return  during  the  war.  His  securities  were  West  and  Cop- 
ley*” Did  not  Mr.  West  procure  this  order? 

“ Crossed,”  says  the  narrative,  “ over  to  Ostend,  thence  to 
Amsterdam,  and  embarked.  Temple  accompanied  him  to 
Ostend,  and  sailed  for  Boston,  where  he  arrived  in  about  30 
days  ; and  Trumbull  in  about  50  landed  at  Corunna  in  Spain. 
Had  sailed  for  Philadelphia,  but  fell  short  of  water  and  provi- 
sions, and  put  back  to  Corunna.  Finding  an  American  ship 
there  bound  to  Bilboa,  took  passage  in  her,  and  arrived  in  the 

beginning  of  December,  and  arrived  at  , in  the 

middle  of  January,  whence  he  found  his  way  home.  Fatigue, 
vexation  and  disappointment,  brought  on  a fit  of  illness  which 
confined  him  to  his  father’s  the  principal  part  of  the  ensuing 


356 


Mr.  Trumbull  returns  to  London. 


summer.  At  the  close  of  the  summer  again  visited  the  army 
then  at  Verplanck’s  point,  and  entered  into  an  arrangement 
with  his  brother  and  others,  who  were  contracting  for  supply- 
ing the  army  with  provisions,  and  passed  the  winter  at  New- 
Windsor  as  store-keeper. 

“In  the  spring  of  1783  the  newrs  arrived  of  the  preliminaries 
of  peace  having  been  arranged.  He'  was  then  at  Lebanon. 
Conversation  with  his  father,  who  was  desirous  to  have  him 
make  choice  of  a profession,  wished  the  law7 — leading  profesi 
sion  in  a republican  government — gratify  ambition,  &c. — 
reply — ‘ So  far  as  I understand  the  law,  it  is  rendered  neces- 
sary by  the  vices  of  mankind.  A lawyer  must  be  distinguished 
for  his  acuteness  and  skill  in  extricating  rogues  from  the  con- 
sequences of  their  villany ; and  as  I view  the  life  of  a lawyer  it 
must  be  passed  in  the  midst  of  all  the  wretchedness  and  mean- 
ness of — ” &c. — -then  went  on  to  give  an  idea  of  an  artist’s 
life — enlarged  on  the  honours  and  rewards  bestowed  by  the 
ancients,  particularly  the  Athenians,  and  in  modern  times  re- 
ferred to  Copley  and  West.  ‘My  son,  you  have  made  an  ex- 
cellent argument,  but  its  operation  is  against  yourself,  and  only 
serves  to  satisfy  me  that  in  the  profession  of  the  law  you  might 
take  a respectable  stand  ; and  in  your  case- you  have  omitted 
one  point  as  the  lawyers  call  it.’  ‘ What  is  that,  sir?’  ‘That 
Connecticut  is  not  Athens.’  He  then  bowed  and  left  the  room, 
and  never  afterwards  interfered  in  the  choice  of  life. 

“ In  January,  1783,  he  (the  painter)  embarked  from  Ports- 
mouth, New-Hampshire,  and  in  January,  1784,  landed  in 
Portsmouth,  England,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  London, 
where  he  was  again  kindly  received  by  Mr.  West,  pursued  his 
studies  indefatigably,  and  in  1785  had  made  such  progress  as 
to  copy  for  Mr.  West  his  celebrated  picture  of  the  Battle  of 
La  Hogue.  The  first  original  composition  of  his  own  was 
painted  immediately  afterward,  and  he  chose  for  his  subject 
Priam  bearing  back  to  his  palace  the  body  of  Hector — the 
figures  about  ten  inches  in  height.  The  picture  is  now  in  the 
possession  of  the  widow  of  Mr.  Gore,  to  whom  it  wras  presented, 
at  Waltham,  near  Boston,  and  is  devised  to  Harvard  college, 
w here  he,  ‘ the  painter,’  was  educated.” 

In  June,  1784,  the  writer  found  Mr.  Trumbull  the  estab- 
lished successor  of  Gilbert  Stuart  in  West’s  apartments.  The 
picture  of  Priam  with  his  son’s  corse  was  in  miniature  oil,  a 
style  in  which  Mr.  Trumbull  was  afterwards  unrivalled  as  an 
historical  painter.  The  figures  were  of  a size- similar,  or  nearly 
so,  to  those  in  bis  “ Bunker  Hill”  and  “Death  of  Montgomery.” 
Another  original  picture,  painted  by  Mr.  Trumbull,  was  a full- 


357 


Paints  under  the  instructions  of  West. 

length  figure  of  a soldier  of  the  king’s  horse  guards,  for  which 
one  of  Mr.  West’s  hired  models,  who  belonged  to  that  corps, 
furnished  person,  costume,  and  horse.  The  figure  was  of  a 
greater  size  than  that  in  which  Mr.  Trumbull  best  succeeded. 

In  the  year  1786,  Mr.  Trumbull  finished  his  picture  of  the 
Battle  of  Bunker’s  Hill.  I saw  this  beautiful  picture  in  various 
stages  of  its  progress,  and  when  finished,  in  the  painting-rooms 
of  Mr.  West.  The  similarity  of  the  subject  leads  to  a compa- 
rison with  two  pictures  previously  painted  by  Mr.  Trumbull’s 
countrymen,  and  both  familiar  to  him — the  “ Death  of  Wolfe,” 
by  West,  and  the  “ Death  of  Major  Pierson,”  by  Copley  ; 
and  however  masterly  the  picture  of  the  younger  painter,  it 
fails  in  the  comparison.  Neither  is  it  equal  to  his  next  picture, 
the  “ Death  of  Montgomery.”  “The  Death  of  Wolfe”  was 
produced  by  West  at  an  early  age,  when  thrown  upon  his  own 
resources,  in  his  own  painting-room,  without  an  adviser  or  in- 
structor, and  adventuring  upon  what  was  then  a new  species 
of  historical  composition — an  heroic  action  or  subject  in  modern 
costume.  West  has  therefore  not  only  the  merit  of  producing  by 
far  the  best  picture,  but  of  originating  a new  style.  Another 
great  advantage  possessed  by  the  “Death  of  Wolfe,”  is  that 
the  painter  has  represented  the  triumph  of  his  heroes,  whereas 
Trumbull  chooses  for  his  picture  the  moment  of  the  overthrow 
of  his  countrymen,  and  the  triumph  of  their  enemies.  The 
death  of  Doctor  Warren,  however  amiable,  accomplished,  and 
intelligent  he  may  have  been,  is  an  incident  of  minor  conse- 
quence compared  with  the  repeated  defeats  of  the  veterans  of 
Great  Britain,  by  Prescott,  Putnam,  and  the  brave  undisci- 
plined Yankee  yeomen  their  associates,  before  the  hill  was  car- 
ried by  reinforcements  sent  from  Boston.  Surely  one  of  these 
moments  of  triumph  might  have  been  chosen  by  an  American 
painter  for  his  picture.  Then  Prescott,  Warren,  and  Putnam 
would  have  been  the  heroes,  instead  of  Small,  Howe,  and 
Clinton^  Then,  instead  of  Major  Small  (who  is  in  fact  the 
hero  of  the  piece)  arresting  the  bayonet  of  an  English  grena- 
dier who  is  about  to  stab  a dying  man,  we  might  have  seen  the 
gallant  and  chivalrous  action  of  Putnam  striking  up  the 
musket  of  his  neighbour  when  levelled  with  deadly  aim  at  this 
same  Major  Small,  (once  his  companion  in  arms,)  when  retreat- 
ing from  the  murderous  fire  which  his  soldiers  would  not  face. 

The  imitative  spirit  is  shown  in  the  modern-dressed  histori- 
cal compositions  which  followed  West’s  “ Death  of  Wolfe 
he  has  a dying  man  in  the  centre  of  his  composition,  and  the 
dying  Major  Pierson,  Doctor  Warren,  General  Montgomery, 
ik.c.  &c.,  follow  in  the  train.  But  see  the  enormous  difference 


358  The  pictures  of  “ Bunker  hill”  and  “ Montgomery  ” 

in  the  interest  and  character  of  the  dying  men.  Wolfe  died 
triumphant,  surrounded  by  his  friends  in  the  moment  of  vic- 
tory, knowing  that  France  had  lost  America  by  the  successful 
efforts  of  his  genius — that  the  chain  which  extended  from  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  to  that  of  Mexico,  encircling  the  Eng- 
lish colonies  with  links  of  French  bayonets  and  Indian  toma- 
hawks, was  broken  and  annihilated  for  ever.  But  the  dying 
men  of  the  other  pictures  are  nothing  more  than — dying  men. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  story  of  Bunker  Hill,  as  told  by 
Mr.  Trumbull,  was  and  is  particularly  objected  to  by  many 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  and  its  neighbourhood.  It  has 
been  called  “ The  triumph  of  British  valour  and  humanity;” 
and  the  painter  has  been  censured  for  taking  Major  Small’s 
version  of  the  affair,  rather  than  that  of  the  Americans  con- 
cerned in  it.  We  have  before  us  several  letters,  written  by  a 
venerable  gentleman,  of  high  standing  in  our  literary  world, 
from  which  we  extract  a few  passages  on  the  subject.  After 
censuring  the  costume  of  Prescott,  and  his  situation  in  the  pic- 
ture, (he  is  represented  as  a feeble  old  man,  with  a slouched  hat 
and  plain  coat  and  under-clothes,  more  like  a quaker  than  a sol- 
dier,and  placed  in  a situation  little  corresponding  with  command) 
he  says:  “ The  whole  picture  is  apocryphal  from  beginning  to 
end,  and  unworthy  of  the  gentleman  I much  esteem.  Besides, 
General  Dearborn,  one  of  our  delegation  in  congress,  has  in 
manuscript  the  life  of  his  father,  Major  General  Dearborn, 
who  I have  heard  again  and  again  contradict  all  the  leading 
points  of  that  picture.”  “ Bunker  Hill  is  two  and  a half  miles 
from  the  table  on  which  I am  now  writing,  and  I know  the  cir- 
cumstances of  that  eventful  battle  better  than  the  painter 
of  it.” 

The  composition,  colouring,  and  touch  of  Mr.  Trumbull’s 
“ Bunker  Hill,”  are  admirable.  The  drawing  and  attitudes 
of  the  figures,  likewise  admirable,  are  inferior  to  his  next 
picture,  of  the  same  miniature  size,  the  “ Death  of  Montgo- 
mery, at  Quebec.”  In  this  the  grouping  is  better  than  that 
of  the  Bunker  Hill.  The  figures  are  accurately  drawn,  and 
the  attitudes  finely  diversified.  The  chiara  scuro  is  perfect. 
But  I cannot  help  feeling  that  it  is  the  commemoration  of  an- 
other triumph  of  Britain  over  America.  I must  farther  remark 
that  the  truth  of  history  is  violated  in  misrepresenting  the  spot 
where  Montgomery  and  his  brave  companions  fell.  When  a 
man  becomes  a “ graphic  historiographer,”  he  has  a duty  to 
fulfil  that  cannot  be  dispensed  with.  If  the  historian  or  the 
u graphic  historiographer”  cannot  tell  the  whole  truth,  he  must 
not  at  least  violate  the  known  truth. 


359 


Project  of  a series  of  pictures . 

These  two  beautiful  little  pictures  were  carried  to  the  city 
of  Washington  in  1816-17,  (as  we  shall  hereafter  notice,)  and 
shown  to  the  members  of  congress,  as  inducements  to  employ 
the  painter  in  patriotic  works  for  the  capitol : but  although 
their  merits  gained  employment  for  the  artist,  the  senators  and 
representatives  saw  at  once  that  such  subjects  were  not  fitted 
for  the  decoration  of  the  rotunda.  Had  the  Battle  of  Bun- 
ker’s Hill  represented  the  true  point  of  time — the  triumph  of 
our  militia  and  their  gallant  leaders  over  the  disciplined  vete- 
rans of  Britain,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  picture  would 
have  been  copied  for  the  nation. 

The  fourth  and  last  historical  composition  which  Mr.  Trum- 
bull finished  while  under  the  eye  of  West,  was  another  triumph 
of  the  arms  of  Great  Britain  over  her  enemies.  The  Sortie 
from  Gibraltar  is  perhaps  the  best  of  Mr.  Trumbull’s  works. 

Mr.  Trumbull  had  proved  that  he  could  succeed  in  historical 
composition  on  the  miniature  scale,  which  was  best  suited  for  the 
purposes  of  the  engraver.  The  American  revolution  had  termi- 
nated happily  for  the  cause  ofjustice  and  humanity.  It  was  popu- 
lar on  the  continent  of  Europe.  The  immense  traffic  in  prints 
which  had  been  established  by  England,  presented  afield  for  the 
accumulation  of  wealth.  To  paint  a series  of  pictures  on  sub- 
jects connected  with  the  American  revolution,  was  obviously 
a speculation  worthy  of  attention.  Pine,  an  English  artist, 
had  already  gone  to  America  for  the  purpose.  It  could  not 
escape  the  attention  of  Mr.  Trumbull’s  mind  that  he  would 
have  advantages  over  every  rival.  To  paint  the  events  of  the 
struggle  for  freedom  in  America,  and  by  a copartnership  with 
European  engravers  spread  prints  of  the  size  of  the  original 
pictures,  was  a feasible  project,  offering  both  fame  and  fortune. 
No  man  could  better  advise  in  the  execution  of  such  a plan 
than  West,  who  had  long  circulated  prints  from  his  pictures 
wherever  art  or  literature  were  known.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, and  with  such  views,  Mr.  Trumbull  made  his  arrange- 
ments for  carrying  into  effect  a project,  of  which  every  artist 
must  lament  the  failure. 

Let  us  now  recur  to  the  narrative.  Mr.  Trumbull  says: 
“ The  success  of  this  picture,”  the  Priam  and  Hector,  “ induced 
him  to  commence  a project  which  had  long  been  floating  in 
his  mind,  of  painting  a series  of  pictures  of  the  principal  scenes 
of  the  revolution.  He  began  with  the  ‘ Battle  of  Bunker  Hill/ 
which  was  composed  and  finished  in  the  early  part  of  the 
year  1786.  In  the  three  subsequent  months  of  the  same  year, 
the  ‘ Death  of  Montgomery  before  Quebec,’  was  composed  and 
painted.  The  pictures  met  with  general  approbation,  not  only 


360 


The  picture  of  the  “ Sortie ” 


in  London,  but  in  Paris,  Berlin,  Dresden,  and  other  parts  of 
the  continent.  They  were  as  soon  as  possible  placed  in 
the  hands  of  eminent  engravers,  for  the  purpose  of  being” 
published  from  the  press.  “ Among  others,  they  were  seen  by 
Mr.  John  Adams,  then  in  London,  and  Mr.  Jefferson  in  Paris, 
to  whom  the  project  was  communicated  of  painting  a series  of 
national  pictures,  which  was  highly  approved,  and  by  their 
concurrence  the  subjects  were  chosen,  (several  of  which  have 
been  since  executed,)  and  he  proceeded  to  arrange  and  adjust 
the  composition  of  those  subjects. 

“ Finding  that  the  painting  of  Bunker  Hill  had  given  of- 
fence in  London,  and  being  desirous  to  conciliate,  he  deter- 
mined to  paint  one  subject  from  British  history,  and  selected 
the  Sortie  of  the  Garrison  of  Gibraltar.  Of  this  the  first  study 
was  made  in  oil,  twelve  by  sixteen  inches,  and  was  presented 
to  Mr.  West,  (figures  carefully  finished,)  as  an  acknowledgment 
for  his  kindness.  Then  a second  picture  was  painted,  twenty  by 
thirty,  carefully  and  laboriously  finished,  with  the  intention  of 
having  it  engraved.  This  picture  was  sold  to  Sir  Francis 
Baring  for  five  hundred  guineas,  who  contracted  for  the  pur- 
chase of  a series  of  pictures  of  American  subjects  at  the  same 
price,  subject  to  the  contingency  of  the  higher  powers.  He 
found  that  the  possession  of  the  pictures  proposed  would  give 
offence  in  a very  high  quarter,  and  therefore  retracted.  Hav- 
ing engaged  Mr.  Sharpe,  the  first  engraver  of  the  age,  to  en- 
grave the  picture,  he  was  tenacious  of  rendering  the  composi- 
tion as  perfect  as  in  his  power,  he  therefore  rejected  that  pic- 
ture, and  began  another  six  feet  by  nine.  This  picture  occu- 
pied the  principal  part  of  the  year  1788,  and  was  finished  in 
the  spring  of  1789,  when  it  was  exhibited  by  itself  in  Spring 
Garden,  London,  and  received  great  applanse.  This  picture 
was  engraved  by  Sharpe,  and  has  since  been  purchased  by  the 
Athenaeum  of  Boston,  where  it  now  is.” 

The  reason  given  by  Mr.  Trumbull  for  choosing  this  sub- 
ject, “ must  give  us  pause.”  “ The  painting  of  Bunker  Hill 
had  given  offence  in  London,  and  being  very  desirous  to  con- 
ciliate,” he  painted  a third  victory  of  the  English  over  their 
enemies,  to  appease  them  for  having  painted  the  two  which 
preceded  it.  Who  had  been  offended  by  the  triumphs  of  Howe 
and  Carlton  over  Prescott  and  Montgomery,  that  were  to  be 
conciliated  by  the  triumph  of  Elliot  over  the  French  and  Spa- 
nish, allies  of  America  ? But  so  it  is — and  this  conciliatory 
painting,  after  being  offered  for  years  to  the  conciliated  peo- 
ple, is  finally  purchased  by  the  citizens  of  Boston.  That  it  is 
so,  is  matter  of  congratulation  to  Americans. 


Mr.  Trumbull  at  New-York,  1789. 


361 


We  see  that  Mr.  Trumbull  painted  his  subject  three  times — 
the  first  given  to  Mr.  West,  very  small — the  second  sold  to 
Baring,  and  the  third  and  largest  now  in  Boston.  If,  after 
painting  these  pictures,  Mr.  Trumbull  had  been  lost  to  the 
world,  there  would  have  been  just  reason  to  exclaim,  as  it 
respects  his  reputation  for  painting,  “ Now  to  die,  were 
now  to  be  most  happy;”  for  certainly  the  world  would 
have  said,  “ Had  he  lived,  he  would  have  been  the  greatest 
artist  of  his  age.”  The  world  would  have  lost  many  beauti- 
fully painted  miniature  heads,  and  pictures  of  merit  by  this 
consummation — -all  we  mean  to  say  is,  that  Mr.  Trumbull’s 
reputation  as  a painter  has  not  been  enhanced  by  any  thing  he 
has  done  since  the  “ Sortie.” 

In  1787  Mr.  Trumbull  was  in  Paris;  and  in  the  house  of 
Mr.  Jefferson,  our  minister  to  France,  he  painted  the  portrait 
of  that  eminent  statesman  and  patriot,  and  likewise  the  por- 
traits of  the  French  officers  who  assisted  Washington  in  the 
capture  of  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown.  We  now  return  to  the 
narrative : 

“In  the  mean  time  the  present  constitution  of  the  United 
States  had  been  framed,  and  the  first  session  of  congress  wras 
appointed  to  be  held  in  New-York  in  December,  1789;  the 
time  had  therefore  arrived  for  proceeding  with  the  American 
pictures.  (He  had  already  obtained  the  portrait  of  Mr.  Adams 
in  London,  and  Mr.  Jefferson  sat  to  him  for  his  in  Paris.) 
Sailed  for  America,  and  arrived  in  New'-York,  November, 
1789,  and  proceeded  to  paint  as  many  of  the  heads  of  the 
signers  of  ‘ The  Declaration  of  Independence’  as  were  present, 
and  of  General  Washington  at  Trenton  and  Princeton.” 

These  portraits,,  of  such  persons  as  had  been  in  congress  at 
the  signing  of  the  declaration  of  independence,  or  had  after- 
wards signed  it, # and  of  Washington,  for  the  pictures  of  the 
Battles  of  Trenton  and  Princeton,  are  among  the  most  admi- 
rable miniatures  in  oil  that  ever  were  painted.  The  same  may 
be  said  of  the  portraits  in  the  small  picture  of  the  “ Surrender 
of  Cornwallis.” 

Mr.  Trumbull  at  this  period  published  a prospectus  of  his 
intended  work,  and  solicited  subscriptions  for  the  prints  of 
Bunker  Hill  and  Quebec.  He  obtained  nearly  three  hundred 
subscribers,  at  six  guineas,  for  the  two  prints,  and  half  the 


* Mr.  Trumbull,  in  a work  published  by  him  in  1832,  says,  that  Adams  and 
Jefferson  advised  him  to  introduce  the  portraits  of  those  who  afterwards  signed, 
as  if  present  at  the  time  of  the  important  resolution  ; that  is,  to  violate  historical 
truth. 


46 


302 


Large  f ull-lengths  in  1790-91  92. 

money  paid  at  the  time  of  subscription.  In  May,  1794,  he 
returned  to  England,  as  secretary  to  Mr.  Jay,  and  was  an- 
nounced by  that  gentleman  to  the  English  ministry  as  Colonel 
Trumbull.  In  1796  he  received  the  appointment  of  agent  for 
impressed  seamen  ; but  Mr.  Jay  having  concluded  a treaty 
with  Great  Britain,  by  which  commissioners  were  to  be  ap- 
pointed to  carry  into  effect  an  article  respecting  illegal  cap- 
tures, Mr.  Trumbull  was  chosen  as  a fifth  by  the  four  commis- 
sioners who  had  been  chosen  by  the  two  governments,  and 
he  accepted  that  as  preferable  to  the  first.  Between  1 794 
and  1796,  it  will  be  seen  that  Mr.  Trumbull  was  engaged  in 
mercantile  speculation.  But  I am  anticipating  his  own  nar- 
rative, to  which  I now  return  : 

“ In  the  summer  of  1790  he  painted  the  full-length  portrait, 
in  the  council-room,  City  Hall,  New  York,  of  General  Wash- 
ington, size  of  life  ; and  in  1791,  that  of  Governor  George 
Clinton,  in  the  same  room.” 

These  two  large  full-lengths  are  in  a style  totally  different 
from  that  Mr.  Trumbull  afterwards  adopted  ; and  the  last- 
mentioned  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  best  large-sized  picture  he 
ever  painted.  It  represents  the  revolutionary  governor  in  his 
capacity  of  general,  defending  Fort  Montgomery,  on  the  Hud- 
son : it  is  strikingly  like,  w ith  an  heroic  and  historical  expres- 
sion, and  the  distant  figures  are  beautifully  touched  in. 

“ In  1792  he  painted  another  full-length  portrait  of  Wash- 
ington for  the  city  of  Charleston,  with  a horse  ; and  in  the 
back-ground  a view  of  that  city.  At  the  same  time  he  painted 
another,  which  is  now  at  the  college  at  New  Haven,  to  which 
it  was  presented  by  the  state  society  of  the  Cincinnati.  This 
latter  portrait  is  regarded,  by  the  artist,  as  the  finest  portrait 
of  General  Washington  in  existence.  It  represents  him  at  the 
most  critical  moment  of  his  life,  on  the  evening  before  the  bat- 
tle of  Princeton,  meditating  his  retreat  before  a superior  ene- 
my. At  the  time  this  picture  was  painting,  Signor  Ceracchi 
executed  a bust,  of  which  there  is  a colossal  cast  in  the  collec- 
tion of  the  American  Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts.  The  best 
evidence  that  can  be  given  of  the  correctness  of  both  these 
productions  of  art  is  to  be  found  in  the  close  resemblance  they 
bear  to  each  other,  although  executed  by  different  hands  and 
in  materials  so  dissimilar.” 

The  reader  will  remark,  that  Mr.  Trumbull  emphasises  the 
word  “ General.”  This  refers  to  Stuart’s  portrait,  which  was 
painted  a short  time  after,  and  is  presumed  to  represent  Presi- 
dent Washington.  But  Washington  was  president  when 
Trumbull  painted  his  portrait,  and  when  Ceracchi  sculptured 


363 


Mr.  Trumbull , Secretory  to  Mr.  Jay. 

his  bust.  Let  it  be  further  remarked,  that  the  original  bust  of 
Washington,  by  Ceracchi,  is  not  colossal.  It  is  the  size  of 
life,  is  very  unlike  the  colossal,  and  is  in  the  collection  of  the 
late  Richard  Mead,  Esq.  This  last  mentioned  is  very  similar 
to  Stuart’s  original  picture,  and  very  like  the  heroic  original, 
but  totally  unlike  the  picture  at  Yale  College;  which,  as  a 
picture,  has  much  merit,  and  was  painted  in  Mr.  Trumbull’s 
best  days. 

The  narrative  proceeds  : — u A few  other  portraits  were 
painted  about  this  time  ; but  the  years  ’91,  ’92,  and  ’93,  were 
principally  spent  in  paining  original  portraits  for  the  histori- 
cal pictures.  In  the  accomplishment  of  his  great  design  he 
travelled  from  New  Hampshire  to  Charleston,  in  South  Caro- 
lina. The  head  of  General  Lincoln,  at  the  surrender  of  York 
Town,  was  painted  in  Boston.  Edward  Rutledge, Hay- 

ward, and  William  Washington,  were  painted  in  Charleston. 
The  heads  painted  at  this  period  are  in  the  small  set  of  pic- 
tures now  at  New  Haven.  They  are  the  originals  of  the  whole 
work,  and  were  all  painted  from  the  living  men — persevering 
in  the  object  of  obtaining  authentic  portraits.” 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Mr.Trumbull  returns  to  England  as  secretary  to  Mr.  Jay — engages  in  commerce 
and  speculation — appointment  as  a fifth,  by  the  four  commissioners  under 
Jay’s  treaty-^Travels  in  Germany  and  France — marriage — return  to  America, 
1804 — exhibits  a number  of  fine  pictures — his  style  of  painting  changed  for  the 
worse— returns  to  London  in  1809-^-paints  historical  pictures  unsuccessfully — 
charges  against  Mr.  West. 

“ Difficulties  had  existed  between  the  late  belligerents 
ever  since  the  war,  and  they  were  of  the  most  embasrassing 
character.  Mr.  Jay  was  appointed  minister  to  Great  Britain, 
for  the  purpose  of  bringing  these  subjects  of  mutual  com- 
plaints and  grievances  to  an  end,”  negotiating  a treaty  of 
amity  and  commerce,  &c.  “ and  Mr.  Jay  appointed  him  his 
secretary.  This  afforded  T.  an  opportunity  of  attending  to 
the  finishing  of  his  three  large  copper-plates,  which  were  at 
that  time  engraving  in  London,  Copenhagen,  (struck  out) 
u and  at  Stutgard,  in  Germany,  and  at  an  expense  of  upwards 
of  3000  guineas.”* 


* In  1833  these  plates  are  said  to  be  in  the  possession  of  Illman  and  Pilbro, 
engravers,  at  New  York.  Pilbro  says,  he  bought  them  of  some  one  in  London, 
within  a year,  and  this  person  purchased  them  of  another,  who  found  them  at  a 
pawnbroker’s. 


364 


Mr.  Trumbull  embarks  in  commerce. 


“ The  result  of  that  negotiation  is  well  known  to  have  ter- 
minated in  a treaty,  signed  on  the  19th  of  November,  1794. 
The  manner  in  which  Mr.  Jay  conducted  the  negotiation 
rendered  the  duties  of  the  secretary  merely  nominal.  After 
the  signing  of  the  treaty  Trumbull  went  to  Paris;  and  he 
saw,  from  the  condition  of  the  continent,  that  all  hope  of  pro- 
fit from  the  sale  of  engravings  was  at  at  end.  His  calculation 
had  been  on  a more  extensive  demand  on  the  continent  of 
Europe  than  elsewhere  for  American  historical  pictures.  The 
war  had  overwhelmed  all  Europe,  and  painters  and  paintings 
were  not  in  demand.  In  consequence  of  which  he  gave  up 
his  professional  pursuits  and  embarked  in  commerce,  until 
August,  1796,  when  he  returned  to  England.” 

At  this  period,  as  Mr.  Trumbull  expressed  it  to  Mr.  Her- 
ring, “he  made  some  lucky  hits  in  the  French  funds.”  We 
have  reason  to  believe,  that  at  this  time  he  purchased  many 
valuable  pictures  by  the  old  masters,  some  of  which  he  after- 
wards brought  to  America. 

The  narrative  proceeds  to  say,  that  u he  was  appointed  one 
of  the  commissioners  under  the  treaty  ; for  the  execution  of  the 
seventh  article.  This  placed  him  in  a new  and  difficult  situa- 
tion. The  British  commissioners,  Sir  John  Nichol  and 
John  Anstey,  Esq.  were  two  of  their  most  eminent  civil  law- 
yers, and  the  two  Americans,  Mr.  Gore  and  Mr.  Pinkney 
were  likewise  eminent  lawyers  : it  was  easy  to  foresee  that 
these  gentlemen  would  frequently  differ  with  respect  to  the 
rights  of  the  two  countries,  and  it  would  remain  with  the  fifth 
commissioner  to  decide.”  It  might  appear,  from  this  state- 
ment of  Mr.  Trumbull,  that  he  was  appointed  by  the  govern- 
ment of  the  United  States,  as  well  as  Mr,  Gore  and  Mr.  Pink- 
ney, but  it  was  not  so  ; the  appointment  was  by  some  agree- 
ment between  the  British  and  American  commissioners  con- 
ferred upon  him,* 

“An  arduous  duty  for  a man  who  had  not  been  educated 
for  the  legal  profession.  It  placed  him  under  the  necessity 
of  going  through  a course  of  reading  on  the  law  of  nations 
and  maritime  law. 

“ They  were  met  at  the  threshold  by  a most  important  ques- 
tion. What  cases  were  to  come  before  them?  and  what  their 


* In  the  letter  of  Mr.  Trumbull  to  Mr.  Wilde,  speaking  of  this  commission,  he 
says,  “The  commission  was  composed  of  five  members,  Mr.  Gore  and  Mr.  Pink- 
ney on  the  part  of  the  United  States  ; Dr.  Nichols  and  Dr.  Swabey,  (two  of  the 
most  eminent  civilians)  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain ; and  I was  the  fifth  com- 
missioner, representing  both  nations.”  And  he  says,  “ all  questions  where  the 
commissioners  appointed  by  England  and  the  United  States  did  not  agree,  were 
decided  by  the  fifth  commissioner.” 


365 


Commissioners  under  Jay's  treaty. 

powers?  On  these  points  the  commissioners  of  both  nations 
were  in  direct  opposition,  4 when’  says  Mr.  Trumbull,  4 I pro- 
posed to  Sir  John  Nichols  this  question,  4 Have  you  any  ob- 
jection to  leave  this  to  the  dicision  of  the  lord  chancellor  ? To 
which  he  replied,  4 None  in  the  world,’  I rejoined  4 neither 
have  I,  Sir  John.’  An  audience  of  the  lord  chancellor  was 
requested  and  the  time  appointed. 

4 4 When  all  the  commissioners  attended  and  the  question 
was  proposed  to  him  by  Sir  John  Nichols — to  which  the 
chancellor  immediately  replied,  4 Sir  John,  the  American  gen- 
tlemen are  right.  The  parties  who  framed  this  treaty,  in 
appointing  this  commission,  intended  to  create  a court  with 
powders  paramount  to  the  courts  of  either  nation,  in  order  that 
the  subjects  of  both  might  there  find  impartial  decisions,  con- 
formable to  justice,  equity,  and  the  law  of  nations.  You, 
gentlemen,  are  vested  with  powers,  such  as  have  rarely  been 
given  to  any  court  upon  earth  ; I hope  you  will  use  them 
carefully  and  wisely.’  Multitudes  of  complaints  were  made  by 
the  subjects  of  both  nations,  and  w7ere  carefully  examined  and 
decrees  made  on  each  separate  case  on  its  own  merits.  The 
commission  was  not  concluded  until  the  beginning  of  the  year 
1804.  The  number  of  cases  examined  amounted  to  between 
three  and  four  hundred,  and  the  amount  awarded  to  be  paid 
by  the  British  government  exceeded  ten  millions  of  dollars. 
The  awards  against  the  United  States  amounted  to  about  half 
a million.  In  all  cases  of  importance  written  opinions  were 
recorded  ; one  copy  of  which  is  in  the  hands  of  Colonel 
Trumbull.  The  principles  laid  down  and  acted  upon  in  those 
opinions,  will  hereafter  form  an  important  part  of  the  maritime 
law  of  nations,  and  have  already  been  of  value  to  many  in- 
dividuals in  the  settlement  of  claims  against  Russia  and  other 
governments,” 

I have  an  interesting  account  of  Mr.  Trumbull’s  visit  to  the 
European  continent  during  the  period  he  was  enjoying  the 
honours  and  emoluments  of  a commissioner  under  the  treaty 
negotiated  by  Mr.  Jay ; a part  of  the  following  was  given  to 
me  in  manuscript  by  Mr.  Herring  as  written  under  Mr.  Trum- 
bull’s dictation  and  part  communicated  from  memory.  The 
last  being  the  iirst  in  order,  I shall  give  it  first. 

44  During  the  existence  of  the  commission  and  previous  to 
the  year  1800,  Mr.  Trumbull  took  advantage  of  one  of  the 
adjournments  with  which  the  commissioners  indulged  them- 
selves when  wishing  to  recover  from  the  fatigues  of  debates  4 in 
which  the  parties  differed  continually,’  to  visit  the  continent : 
and  as  the  adjournment  was  for  some  months,  he  resolved  to 


366 


Adventure  in  Germany. 

travel  to  Stutgard,  where  his  picture  of  ‘ Bunker  Hill*  was  in 
the  hands  of  the  engraver.  He  first  proceeded  to  Paris,  de- 
sirous, among  other  things,  to  procure  passports  from  the 
French  government.  Upon  applying  he  was  put  off  from 
time  to  time,  and  at  length  upon  receiving  a hint  that  he  was 
in  danger  in  consequence  of  some  suspicions  entertained  by 
the  police,  he  decamped  for  Amsterdam,  having  the  good  for- 
tune to  find  a vessel  ready  to  sail  and  a captain  willing  to  take 
him.  At  Amsterdam  he  applied  to  the  French  ambassador 
for  passports  to  Stutgard,  and  obtained  them.  This  enabled 
him  to  visit  that  and  other  places,  and  to  take  possession  of  his 
painting  and  the  engraved  plate. 

“ Germany  being  at  that  time  the  seat  of  war,  our  artist  met 
with  various  adventures,  one  of  which  is  particularly  interest- 
ing. He  arrived  in  his  carriage  at  the  only  inn  belonging  to 
a village  on  the  Rhine,  which  was  in  the  possession  of  a divi- 
sion of  the  French  army.  The  inn  was  fully  occupied  by  offi- 
cers, and  there  was  no  bed  for  the  traveller.  Boniface,  how- 
ever recollected  that  an  aid  of  the  general,  who  had  his  quar- 
ters in  the  house  had  been  recently  sent  off,  and  perhaps  might 
be  absent  for  the  night.  He  was  willing  to  accommodate  the 
traveller,  but  must  first  have  permission  from  the  general. 
Accordingly  he  was  sent  to  inquire  of,  and  receive  commands 
from  his  excellency.  He  returned  with  an  orderly  sergeant, 
and  a message  from  the  general,  who  wished  to  see  the  appli- 
cant for  his  aid’s  bed.  On  being  introduced,  he  was  questioned 
as  to  his  country.  4 America.’  ‘ From  what  part?’  Connec- 
ticut.’ 4 And  the  town  ?’  ‘ Lebanon.’  ‘Ha  ! You  must  know 
then  my  old  friend  Governor  Trumbull?’  ‘I  am  his  son.’ 

“ The  general  was  rejoiced  to  meet  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine, 
the  son  of  one  whose  hospitality  he  had  enjoyed  in  another 
hemisphere,  and  the  traveller  found  himself  in  excellent  quar- 
ters, and  among  friends.  The  commander  of  this  division  of 
the  French  army,  was  one  of  those  officers  who  had  accompa- 
nied Rochambeau  and  learned  his  first  lesson  of  republicanism 
in  the  native  country  of  the  painter. 

“ The  artist  returned  to  France  with  his  pictures,  and  as  he 
could  not  proceed  to  England  without  permission,  and  the  time 
of  the  adjourned  meeting  of  the  commissioners  was  fast  ap- 
proaching, he  addressed  a letter  from  Calais  to  Talleyrand, 
requesting  a passport.  He  received  no  answer,  and  proceed- 
ed to  Paris.”  His  difficulties  in  that  city  I transcribe  from 
the  manuscript,  which  begins  abruptly : 

“From  a Frenchman  whom  he  had  known  in  Boston,  who 
expressed  great  pleasure  at  seeing  him  in  Paris,  and  after 
some  conversation,  asked,  if  he  had  seen  the  minister?’  ‘ What 


Adventures  in  Paris . 


367 


minister  ?’  ‘ Citizen  Talleyrand,  certainly.’  4 1 sent  letters  to 
him  from  Calais  to  which  lie  made  no  repty,  and  should  have 
thought  it  impertinent  to  have  called  upon  him  under  those  cir- 
cumstances.’ ‘ O,  you  are  very  much  mistaken — he  will  be 
very  happy  to  see  you — he  wishes  to  see  you  very  much — I 
have  seen  him  this  morning — he  would  be  very  happy  to  see 
you.’ 

“ So,  Colonel  Trumbull  called  upon  the  minister,  and  was 
very  politely  received,  and  invited  to  dine ; and  he  did  dine 
that  day  with  him.  He  sat  next  to  Lucien  Bonaparte,  and 
near  to  Madame  de  Stael,  who  was  very  prompt  to  make  in- 
quiries, and  launched  at  once  into  political  subjects.  Talley- 
rand, however,  interrupted  her  by  observing,  * This  is  noplace, 
madam,  to  talk  politics.’ 

“ The  time  was  approaching  when  it  was  necessary  for  the 
commissioner  to  be  in  London,  and  he  accordingly  applied 
for  a pass  at  the  bureau  de  police;  but  he  was  put  off.  He 
called  again  but  could  not  succeed.  Being  puzzled  with  this 
unexpected  difficulty,  he  went  to  Mr.  Pinkney  and  told  him 
of  it,  but  was  assured  that  he  could  not  help  him,  and  that  it 
was  not  unlikely  that  in  twenty-four  hours  they  would  meet  in 
the  Temple. 

“Trumbull  at  last  made  up  his  mind  to  call  again  on  Tal- 
leyrand, to  take  leave,  and,  if  he  found  a convenient  opportu- 
nity, to  obtain  his  aid  in  procuring  a passport.  Talleyrand  at 
once  took  him  into  his  private  bureau,  and  began  to  talk  on 
the  subject  of  the  difficulties  between  the  nations,  and  particu- 
larly of  the  money  demanded  of  the  American  deputies,  and 
attributed  the  high  tone  of  the  American  government  to  Brit- 
ish influence.  Trumbull  observed,  ‘ Mr.  Talleyrand,  you  have 
been  in  America,  and  know  our  constitution  as  well  as  I dor 
and  you  must  know  that  these  gentlemen  can  do  no  less  than 
they  have  been  instructed  to  do  by  their  government.’ 

“Talleyrand  fiercely  thumped  his  fist  upon  the  table,  and 
exclaimed,  ‘ But  they  must.’  Whether  in  the  ardour  of  his 
thoughts  he  had  forgotten  his  diplomatic  caution,  or  had  acted 
a part  for  the  purpose  of  having  it  communicated  to  the  Ame- 
rican commissioners,  can  only  be  judged  by  those  who  know 
the  character  of  the  minister,  and  they  will  not  hesitate  to  ad- 
mit, as  most  probable,  that  he  had  made  his  calculations  for 
effect.  The  strange  turn  which  had  been  given  to  the  conver- 
sation, and  its  rough  termination,  cut  off  all  hope  of  Talley- 
rand’s interference  in  the  obtaining  a passport ; he  accord- 
ingly applied  again  to  the  police  office,  and  was  told  if  he 
would  ascend  the  grand  staircase,  and  turn  into  a low  door  on 


368  David  and  the  police. 

the  left,  he  would  there  find  a person  who  would  do  his  busi- 
ness. 

“ He  went  as  directed,  and  entered  a room  in  which  was 
seated  a little,  thin,  sharp  old  Frenchman,  who  was  alone  and 
writing.  4 We  shall  meet  in  the  Temple  within  twenty-four 
hours,’  flashed  on  his  mind.  4 I shall  be  caught  by  this  old 
spider.’ 

“ ‘ What  does  the  citizen  want?’  Trumbull  informed  him. 
6 What  is  your  name?’  4 John  Trumbull.’  4 Ah,  you  are  very 
well  known  here.’  He  then  went  on  with  his  writing,  and 
paid  no  further  attention  to  the  application.  And  when 
Trumbull  became  satisfied  with  waiting,  he  retired — unmo- 
lested. 

“The  time  appointed  for  the  meeting  of  the  commissioners 
in  London  was  drawing  nigh,  and  if  he  was  detained,  another 
would  be  selected  by  lot  in  his  place.  What  could  he  do  ? 
Who  did  he  know,  of  all  in  Paris,  who  would  have  an  influ- 
ence with  the  powers  in  the  ascendant  ? 4 David  the  painter — 

the  very  man  !’  He  took  a carriage  and  called  on  him,  and 
was  received  with  great  cordiality,  and  asked  about  his  great 
work-how  the  engravings  progressed.  He  told  him  that 
Bunker-hill  was  finished,  and  he  had  been  to  get  the  plate  and 
picture,  and  had  them  in  Paris,  and  that  he  was  anxious  to 
proceed  to  London,  but  did  not  appear  to  be  as  well  known 
as  he  formerly  was,  concluding  by  asking  David  to  assist  him 
in  procuring  a passport. 

44  David  requested  him  to  take  a carriage,  and  bring  his 
picture  immediately.  He  did  so:  and  David  accompanied 
him  to  the  police  office  taking  the  picture  along  with  them. 
On  entering  the  office  the  same  persons  were  there  as  before, 
and  a whispering  was  observed  among  them,  and  looks  of 
wonder  that  citizen  David  should  lean  on  the  arm  of  that  man 
who  could  not  get  a passport.  4 Which  is  the  secertary’s 
office  ?’  demanded  David,  with  authority.  He  was  shown  to 
it.  He  then  introduced  Colonel  Trumbull,  as  a friend ; 
vouched  for  him  as  a republican  as  good  as  himself ; told  his 
profession  and  his  business  in  Paris  ; and  requested  that  a 
passport  might  be  furnished.  The  secretary  promised  to  have 
it  done  immediately,  and  after  a moment  wished  the  minister 
to  be  informed,  and  his  consent  obtained.  They  were  then 
ushered  into  the  apartment  of  the  minister,  {of  police ,)  and  the 
picture  produced.  4 This  gentleman,’  said  David,  4 saw  the 
battle  of  Bunker-hill  and  has  painted  it.  I saw7  the  picture  ten 
years  ago.  He  has  been  to  have  it  engraved.’ 


Travelling  companion.  369 

“ The  minister  was  very  polite  ; authorized  the  passport ; 
but  added,  that  * he  was  almost  tempted  to  use  his  power  to 
prevent  it,  that  he  might  detain  so  excellent  an  artist  in 
the  country.5  Mixing  up  with  bis  unwilling  consent  the 
smoothest  flattery. 

“No  sooner  was  his  passport  ready  than  he  took  post 
horses  and  away  with  speed  lest  another  change  should  detain 
him.  On  arriving  at  St.  Dennis,  while  changing  horses,  a 
motley  crowd  assembled  around  (he  carriage,  and  amongst 
them  was  a man  distinguished  by  a military  uniform  and  pecu- 
liar figure,  being  upwards  of  six  feet  one  or  two  inches,  in 
height,  thin,  and  of  a Don  Quixote  appearance,  with  a sword 
almost  as  long  as  himself  dragging  along  the  pavement  in  a 
brass  scabbard.  This  figure  approached  the  carriage  and 
looking  in,  inquired,  4 Is  the  citizen  alone  ?’  Trumbull’s  first 
thought  was,  4 I am  entrapped  !’” 

After  some  inquiries  and  answers,  which  Mr.  Herring  re- 
peated verbally,  the  narrative  proceeds,  444  Is  the  citizen  Eng- 
lish ?’  4 No,  I am  an  American.’  4 The  carriage  is  English  ?’ 

4 Yes,  I have  been  residing  some  time  in  England,  and  brought 
the  carriage  from  that  country.’  ” 

“ These  inquiries  and  answers  at  last  led  to  the  singular 
question  by  the  stranger  if  he  4 might  be  permitted  to  take 
the  vacant  seat  as  far  as  Chantilly?’  The  request,  of  course, 
was  granted.  When  the  horses  were  ready  they  proceeded, 
and  the  militaire  asked  a number  of  questions  as — where  his 
fellow-traveller  had  been,  and  of  the  persons  he  had  seen  in 
his  route.  On  Trumbull  mentioning  a certain  officer,  the 
soldier  exclaimed,  ‘ Ah,  he  was  a fool  ! I was  a private  in  his 
regiment.  I now  command  it.’  It  was  Trumbull’s  intention 
to  have  proceeded  beyond  Chantilly ; but  his  companion  told 
him  it  would  be  unsafe.  4 Wait  until  morning,  and  I will  give 
you  an  escort  through.’  ” 

Here  the  manuscript  fails  me,  but  Mr,  Herring  terminated 
the  adventure  thus  : “ The  painter  concluding  that  he  was  a 
prisoner,  complied  with  the  suggestions  of  his  companion  as 
with  commands,  and  awaited  the  result.  The  next  morning 
at  daybreak  an  escort  of  horse  was  ready  and  thus  attended 
he  proceeded.  Having  passed  through  the  part  which  had 
been  described  as  unsafe,  to  the  traveller’s  surprise  his  guard 
left  him  to  pursue  his  way  at  his  pleasure.  Still  the  fear  of 
detention  was  not  removed,  and  on  his  arrival  at  Calais,  find- 
ing that  the  packet  had  just  entered  the  harbour  from  Dover, 
so  great  was  the  fear  of  French  republicanism  which  haunted 
the  American  commissioner,  that  he  induced  the  captain,  by  an 

47 


370  Mr.  Trumbull  returns  to  New-York  in  1804. 

offer  of  one  hundred  guineas,  immediately  to  return  and  land 
him  on  that  shore  where  alone  his  safety  could  be  assured.” 

If  we  look  attentively  at  this  narrative  of  difficulties,  it  will 
be  seen  that  Trumbull  did  not  ask  Talleyrand  for  a passport — 
that  he  did  not  wait  for  an  answer  from  the  little  old  French- 
man at  the  police  office — in  short,  that  he  had  been  imagining 
difficulties  which  had  no  existence.  It  appears  further,  that  as 
soon  as  David  applied  for  it,,  the  permission  was  given.  Not- 
withstanding which,  the  little  old  Frenchman  and  the  French 
officer^six  feet  two  in  height,  haunted  his  imagination  as  emissa- 
ries of  tyranny,  though  both  harmless — the  first  let  him  depart 
unmolested  ; the  second  gave  him  an  escort  to  render  his 
journey  safe. 

We  have  seen  that  the  business  which  occupied  the  commis- 
sioners was  concluded  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1804.  In 
the  meantime  an  event  had  taken  place  which  usually  has  the 
most  important  bearing  on  the  life  of  man.  During  the  exis- 
tence of  this  commission  Mr  Trumbull  was  married. 

All  I find  in  Mr.  Herring’s  manuscript  are  these  words,  at 
the  top  of  a page  : “ He  was  married  in  1800-1.  There  is 
every  reason  to  suppose  that  Mr.  Trumbull  meant  to  make 
England  his  home.  His  wife  was  an  Englishwoman,  and  his 
only  son  an  officer  in  the  English  army  ; but  Mr.  Trumbull 
returned  to  the  United  States,  bringing  Mrs.  Trumbull  with 
him,  in  June  1804. 

In  the  month  of  June  1794,  Mr.  Trumbull  had  landed  in 
England  as  secretary  to  Mr.  Jay,  and  in  a residence  of  ten 
years  painted  many  portraits  the  size  of  life,  assuming  a style 
altogether  different  and  much  less  happy  than  that  he  had 
formerly  adopted. 

Among  the  works  of  this  period  which  have  remained  with 
the  painter  are  portraits  of  Messrs  Gore  and  King  ; portrait  of 
a lady;  St.  John  and  Lamb;  the  “ Madonna  au  Corset  Rouge,” 
from  Raphael;  Infant  Saviour  and  St.  John;  and  a Holy 
Family. 

On  the  occasion  of  this  visit  of  1804  to  his  native  country, 
the  painter  brought  a large  collection  of  pictures,  which  had 
been,  as  is  understood,  thrown  into  the  Parisian  market  as 
things  of  little  or  at  least  diminished  value  by  the  stormy  waves 
of  the  French  revolution  ; and  were  purchased  by  the  artist 
in  his  visits  to  that  capital.  These  pictures  were  placed  on  ex- 
hibition in  the  room  afterwards  occupied  as  a saloon  in  the 
Park  theatre  New-York ; but  notwithstanding  their  great 
beauty  and  intrinsic  merit,  they  did  not  attract  sufficient  atten- 
tion to  pay  the  charges  of  exhibiting,  although  the  manager 
of  the  theatre  gave  the  room  rent  free.  This  was  the  first  public 


371 


Pictures  painted  from,  1804  to  1808. 

exhibition  of  original  pictures  by  the  old  masters  of  Europe 
which  had  been  made  in  America,  and  in  many  respects  it  has 
not  been  exceeded  since.  The  artist  at  the  same  time  exhibit- 
ed as  part  of  the  collections  his  own  fine  picture  of  the  Sortie 
from  Gibraltar,  which  is  now  in  the  Boston  Athenaeum. 

After  a trial  of  the  want  of  taste  in  New-York,  at  that 
period,  these  pictures  were  repacked,  and  stored  away  until 
their  owner  returned  again  to  London.  They  then  followed 
him. 

Mr.  Trumbull,  soon  after  his  arrival  in  1804,  established 
himself  in  a large  house,  corner  of  Pine-street  and  Broadway, 
as  portrait-painter,  in  his  second  style.  He  stood  alone  in  the 
northern  and  eastern  division  of  the  United  States.  Jarvis 
and  Sully,  though  pofessing  to  paint,  were  tyros  and  un- 
known. Stuart  was  at  the  seat  of  government.  Our  wealthy 
citizens  had  their  portraits  painted,  and  the  corporation  of 
New-York  had  their  governors  and  mayors  immortalized  by 
Mr.  Trumbull. 

An  auctioneer,  once  upon  a time,  had  a variety  of  articles 
which  he  exposed  for  sale,  perhaps  in  Wall-street,  and  among 
the  rest  some  sheep.  He  dwelt  at  length,  and  with  many 
flourishes,  upon  the  invaluable  bargains  he  offered,  far  below 
their  value,  and  concluded  his  eloquent  harangue  with,  “ As 
to  the  sheep,  gentlemen,  they  will  speak  for  themselves.” 

So  I would  willingly  say  of  the  pictures  painted  during  the 
painter’s  present  visit  to  America,  if  my  readers  could  all 
have  the  opportunity  of  appreciating  their  dumb  eloquence. 
Some  of  these  portraits  of  the  head-size  are  speaking  like- 
nesses ; but  of  the  generality,  and  of  the  whole-lengths,  they 
are  wonderful  proofs  of  the  possibility  of  the  same  hand  paint- 
ing at  one  period  beautiful  faces  and  figures,  worthy  of  the 
admiration  of  the  amateur  and  artist,  and  while  yet  in  the 
vigour  of  life,  at  the  age  of  48,  producing  pictures  devoid  of 
most  things  valuable  in  the  art,  and  contrasts  to  his  former 
work.  Perhaps  the  worst  of  these  pictures  is  the  portrait  of 
John  Jay. 

This  could  not  last.  Jarvis  and  Sully  were  rising.  Stuart 
moved  north.  Applications  for  portraits  became  “few  and  far 
between,”  and  in  1808,  Mr.  Trumbull  again  returned  to  Eng- 
land, loudly  complaining  of  the  taste,  manners,  and  institu- 
tions of  America.  That  he  now  intended  to  make  England 
his  permanant  place  of  residence  we  presume. 

In  1809,  Mr.  Trumbull  was  established  in  handsome  style 
in  Argyle-slreet,  London,  and  had  some  share  of  the  portrait- 
painting of  the  time,  but  not  enough,  and  he  again  devoted 
himself  to  historical  composition. 


372 


Eight  years  more  in  London. 

In  respect  to  this  portion  of  Mr.  Trumbull’s  life,  that  is 
from  1804,  all  we  find  in  the  manuscript,  dictated  to  Mr. 
Herring,  is  : “ 1808,  the  embarrassments  of  commerce  affected 
the  class  of  citizens  by  whom,  in  this  country,”  America, 
“ the  fine  arts  are  chiefly  supported,  and  he  determined  to 
seek  abroad  that  employment  which  he  could  not  obtain  at 
home.  Accordingly,”  (he  returned  to  London  and  remained 
abroad  until  1816,)  “ during  his  residence  in  England  he 
painted  a number  of  pictures,  with  the  hope  of  attracting  some 
attention,  but,”  says  he,  “ every  thing'American  was  unpop- 
ular. The  war  of  1812  was  unpopular,  and  he  failed  com- 
pletely. At  the  close  of  the  war  he  returned  to  New-York.” 

Now,  during  this  same  period,  Washington  Allston,  and 
Charles  R.  Leslie,  were  likewise  in  London,  and  painting  ; 
and  the  reader  has  only  to  turn  to  the  accounts  these  gentle- 
men give  of  the  encouragement  afforded  to  their  efforts  by 
Englishmen,  and  he  will  conclude  that  the  true  reason  of 
failure  is  not  given.  Allston  expressly  says,  “ England  has 
never  made  any  distinction  between  our  artists  and  her  own.” 

When  Mr.  Trumbull  returned  to  England  in  1808,  he  car- 
ried with  him  several  studies  which  he  had  made  of  the  Falls 
of  Niagara,  with  a view  to  have  a panorama  of  that  great 
scene  painted  by  Barker,  that  species  of  exhibition  being  at 
the  time  fashionable  and  profitable  in  London. 

1 have  heard  Mr.  Trumbull  say,  speaking  of  Mr.  West, 
“ For  thirty  years  he  was  more  than  a father  to  me.”  Yet  it 
is  well  known  that  after  the  failure  of  his  prospects  as  an  his- 
toric painter  in  London,  and  the  rejection  by  Barker  of  his 
proposals  for  a joint  concern  in  a panorama  of  Niagara,  he 
spoke  of  Mr.  West  in  a style  of  bitterness  little  according  with 
the  first  mentioned  fact  of  paternal  protection.  That  West 
secretly  influenced  public  opinion  against  the  efforts  of  the 
man  he  had  made  a painter,  is  so  diametrically  opposite  to  the 
uniform  character  and  conduct  of  that  benevolent  and  pure 
man,  that  the  assertion,  when  I heard  it  made,  astonished  and 
disgusted  me.  He  further  charged  his  old  master  with  influ- 
encing Barker  to  reject  his  viewrs  of  Niagara.  If  the  rival 
merits  of  the  pupil  could  cause  the  master  to  fear  his  oversha- 
dowing popularity  as  an  historical  painter,  still  we  are  to  look 
for  a motive  that  might  influence  his  conduct  in  thwarting  the 
plans  of  a project  as  a designer  of  panoramas. 

Mr.  Trumbull’s  account  of  this  transaction  (as  related  by 
a highly  respectable  gentleman)  is  as  follows : Mr.  West,  as 
was  asserted,  was  overheard,  at  the  theatre,  in  conversation 
with  Barker,  giving  his  opinion  that  the  views  painted  by 


373 


Charges  against  West. 

Trumbull  were  not  fitted  for  a panorama,  and  discouraging 
the  acceptance  of  his  proposals.  Barker,  having  rejected  the 
plan,  and  this  overheard  conversation  being  reported  to  the  dis- 
appointed painter,  he  repaired  to  Newman-street,  and  finding 
the  old  man,  as  usual,  at  his  esel,  opened  his  battery  of  re- 
proaches, and  told  the  story  of  the  overh'eard  dialogue. 

The  old  gentleman  continued  his  work  until  the  complain- 
ant had  finished — made  a pause,  and  then  mildly  said,  “ All 
the  difference  from  the  truth  in  what  you  have  stated,  is,  that 
I urged  the  plan,  and  the  objections  were  made  by  Barker.” 
But  this  did  not  satisfy — perhaps  only  irritated  the  disappointed 
man.*  It  is  to  be  remarked  that  this  is  Mr.  Trumbull’s  own 
version  of  the  story.  In  connexion  with  the  anecdote^  it  may 
be  well  to  quote  the  words  of  another  pupil  of  West.  Wash- 
ington Allston  says,  “ He  was  a man  overflowing  with  the  milk 
of  human  kindness.  If  he  had  enemies,  I doubt  if  he  owed 
them  to  any  other  cause  than  this  rare  virtue.” 

From  this  time  until  a subscription  was  filled  for  a picture 
of  West  by  Lawrence,  proposed  by  Mr.  Waldo  in  New-York, 
Mr.  Trumbull  spoke  of  West  in  terms  of  enmity.  He  was  ap- 
pointed to  write  the  letter  requesting  the  sittings,  and  he  did 
it  in  the  style  of  friendship. 

It  was  not  until  after  Mr.  Trumbull’s  final  return  to  the 
United  States  in  1816,  that  I had  the  most  distant  notion  that 
he  could  feel  enmity  to  his  former  teacher.  Standing  before 
a cast  from  Chantry’s  bust  of  West,  I remarked,  w ith  a feeling 
of  delight,  “ How  like  it  is  !”  “ Yes,”  was  the  reply  ; “ it  has 
precisely  his  jesuitical  expression.”  These  few  words  let  in  a 
flood  of  light  upon  the  hearer.  They  pierced  like  an  arrow, 
and  like  a barbed  arrow  they  remained  fixed. 

When  afterwards  I heard  of  the  disappointed  expectations  of 
the  artist,  on  presenting  his  master  with  the  small  study  for 
his  picture  of  the  “ Sortie,” — that  “it  had  not  been  exhibited 
and  displayed  as  it  might  have  been,”  and  that  the  pupil  ex- 
pected the  master  to  have  relinquished  his  mantle,  and  covered 
him  therewith;  I had  still  more  light  shed  upon  me.  Whe- 
ther it  was  expected  that  West  should  ascend  to  heaven  before 
his  time  to  accommodate  his  grateful  protegee,  I know  not; 
but  I do  know,  that  long  after  this  period  of  disappointed  ex- 
pectation, the  greatest  and  best  works  of  the  great  painter 


* This  passage  has  been  submitted  to  the  gentleman  who  originally  related  it, 
and  he  confirms  the  whole,  adding,  that  by  the  pause  before  speaking,  it  was  insi- 
nuated that  West  took  time  to  fabricate  an  answer,  and  that  the  answer  was  a 
falsehood. 


374  Pictures  painted  in  London , 1808  to  1816. 

were  completed,  and  other  pupils  had  arisen,  much  more  able 
to  sustain  the  “ mantle,”  when  he  should  be  called  from  the 
cold  world  where  his  old  age  needed  it. 

But  I must  return  to  that  portion  of  the  artist’s  life,  which 
passed  between  his  return  to  England  in  1808,  and  his  last 
visit  to  America  in  1816.  During  this  eight  years’  residence 
in  England,  he  made  strenuous  efforts  to  attract  popular  at- 
tention. But  his  style  had  changed  since  his  happy  state  of 
pupillage  under  West.  As  we  have  seen  in  his  own  words, 
“ he  failed  completely.”  Besides  two  elaborately  finished  pic- 
tures from  scripture  subjects,  which  were  exhibited  at  the  Bri- 
tish Institution,  in  the  hope  of  prize  or  sale,  the  artist  seized 
a moment  of  Russian  popularity,  and  displayed  “ Peter  the 
Great  at  Narva.”  When  Scott’s  poems  occupied  public  at- 
tention, he  painted  Ellen  Douglass,  her  father,  lover,  and  the 
old  harper,  which,  although  on  the  small  scale,  approached  in 
nothing  else  to  his  first  pictures.  The  Knighting  of  De  Wil- 
ton was  painted ; and  the  picture  of  “ Lamderg  and  Gel- 
chossa.” 

But  the  two  scripture  pictures  above  noticed  seem  to  have 
engrossed  a great  portion  of  his  time,  study,  and  labour.  The 
subjects  are,  “ The  Woman  taken  in  Adultery,”  and  “ Suffer 
little  children  to  come  unto  me,”  both  now  (1834)  at  New- 
Haven.  Both  were  painted  on  a small  scale,  and  then  en- 
larged to  life  size.  These  are  the  best  pictures  painted  by 
the  artist  at  this  period,  and  far  superior  to  his  more  recent 
works. 

“The  Woman  taken  in  Adultery”  is  the  best  of  the  two. 
The  figure  of  Christ  is  the  best  large  historical  figure  by  this 
painter,  and  is  in  many  respects  better  than  the  Saviour  in  West’s 
great  painting  of  “The  Healing  in  the  Temple.”  For  the 
distribution  of  the  figures,  the  painter  has  judiciously  followed 
the  recommendation  of  old  Richardson,  where  he  points  out 
the  best  mode  of  arranging  the  subject.  The  second  picture, 
“ Suffer  little  children,”  &c,,  is  apparently  more  laboured  than 
the  first ; and  is  devoid  of  its  aerial  perspective.  But  the  most 
striking  defect  is  the  palpable  imitation  of  the  Magdalen  in 
Correggio’s  “ St.  Jerome,”  which  the  artist  had  copied  (from 
West’s  copy)  in  the  winter  of  1800-1,  and  the  utter  failure  in 
the  attempt. 


Final  return  to  America , 1816. 


375 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Final  return  to  America  in  1816 — Successful  application  to  congress — Four  pic- 
tures for  the  capitol — Unsuccessful  application  to  congress — Letter  to  Mr. 
Wilde — Copies — Extraordinary  deterioration — Trumbull  Gallery  at  New-Ha- 
ven. 

In  1816  Mr.  Trumbull  returned  to  America,  after  having 
passed,  for  the  second  time  in  the  enemy’s  country,  a period 
of  warfare  successfully  terminated  by  his  fellow-citizens.  The 
change  which  had  taken  place  in  the  state  of  the  arts  during  the 
last  absence  of  the  artist,  rendered  his  prospects  as  a portrait- 
painter  sufficiently  gloomy.  In  addition  to  Stuart,  who  had 
all  the  applications  from  the  rich  and  the  celebrated  to  the 
east,  Sully  was  in  high  and  deserved  reputation,  commanding 
the  demand  for  portraits  in  Philadelphia  and  its  neighbour- 
hood, and  Jarvis  was  full  of  orders  for  private  and  public 
individuals  in  New-York.  Vanderlyn  had  likewise  returned 
from  the  continent  of  Europe,  and  the  admirers  of  the  fine 
arts  looked  with  mingled  delight  and  admiration  on  his  “Ma- 
rius” and  44  Ariadne.”  And  although  Allston  had  not  yet 
arrived,  the  fame  of  his  success  had  preceded  him,  and  he 
soon  followed  his  great  picture  of  the  44  Dead  man  revived  by 
the  bones  of  the  prophet.”  Besides  these  prominent  men,  a 
number  of  younger  artists  were  coming  forward,  many  of 
whom  soon  displayed  skill,  which  threw  the  waning  talents  of 
Mr.  Trumbull  in  the  shade. 

The  pictures  brought  home  by  Mr.  Trumbull  attracted 
attention  to  him  as  an  historical  painter,  and  he  now  judiciously 
determined,  as  the  capitol  at  Washington  was  rebuilding,  and 
the  nation  animated  by  recent  triumphs,  to  make  an  effort  for 
employment  in  commemorating  the  heroes  of  the  revolution, 
by  exhibiting  his  early  pictures  at  the  seat  of  government. 

A preparatory  step  was  the  revival  of  the  American  Aca- 
demy of  Fine  Arts  at  New-York,  the  consequence  of  which 
was  his  election  as  its  president,  and  a nominal  sale  of  several 
of  his  pictures  to  the  institution  over  which  he  presided. 

I was  among  the  first  and  warmest  in  recommending  the 
application  to  congress.  I looked  with  delight  on  the  minia- 
tures painted  in  1786-7-8  and  9,  and  anticipated  more  delight 
from  the  same  when  enlarged  and  rendered  more  powerful  by 
the  charm  of  magnitude.  Members  of  congress  seemed  to 
calculate  upon  the  same  scale,  and  of  the  vast  increase  in  diffi- 
culty between  the  small  and  the  great,  and  the  possibility  of 
deterioration  in  an  artist’s  abilities,  while  in  possession  of  his 
physical  powers,  I was  as  ignorant  as  any  member  of  congress. 


376  Four  pictures  engaged  by  Congress. 

Mr.  Trumbull  proceeded  to  Washington  during  the  session 
of  1816-17  ; and  the  fine  compositions  of  44  Bunker  Hill,”  and 
“Montgomery,”  with  the  admirable  miniature  portraits  of  the 
signers  of  the  declaration  of  July  4th,  and  the  heroes  who  ter- 
minated the  revolution  at  York  Town,  procured  an  order  for 
four  pictures,  for  the  rotunda  of  the  capitol,  the  architect  of 
which  made  his  design  to  accommodate  eight,  each  18  feet  by 
12.  Appropriations  were  made  for  the  payment  of  thirty-two 
thousand  dollars,  or  eight  thousand  dollars  for  each,  a part 
paid  in  advance,  as  I understand,  and  the  remainder  in  due 
time.  This  magnificent  national  encouragement  of  the  fine 
arts,  and  tribute  of  gratitude  to  the  sages  and  warriors  of  the 
revolution,  met  the  full  approbation  of  every  portion  of  the  re- 
public. 

But  although  the  paintings  of  “ Bunker  Hill”  and  44  Montgo- 
mery’s Defeat,”  contributed  by  their  excellence  to  facilitate  the 
order  for  four  pictures,  congress  did  not  choose  to  ornament 
their  halls  with  the  triumphs  of  their  enemies  and  rejected  those 
subjects.  They  chose  what  is  called  the  “ Declaration  of  In- 
dependence,” “ The  Surrender  of  Burgoyne,”  44  The  Surren- 
der of  Cornwallis,”  and  44  The  Resignation  of  Washington,” 
when  his  great  work  was  accomplished. 

As  the  44  Declaration”  and  44  The  Surrender  of  Cornwallis,” 
were  composed,  and  the  heads  finished  on  the  small  scale,  the 
painter  began  the  series,  by  the  large  picture  of  the  first  sub- 
ject, which,  when  finished,  he  exhibited  in  New-York,  and  then 
in  all  the  principal  cities  of  the  Union;  this  gave  an  opportu- 
nity to  the  citizens  of  seeing  their  picture  without  the  expense 
of  a journey  to  Washington. 

Public  expectation  was  perhaps  never  raised  so  high  re- 
specting a picture,  as  in  this  case : .and  although  the  painter 
had  only  to  copy  his  own  beautiful  original  of  former  days,  a 
disappointment  was  felt  and  loudly  expressed.  Faults  which 
escaped  detection  in  the  miniature,  were  glaring  when  magni- 
fied— the  touch  and  the  colouring  were  not  there — attitudes 
which  appeared  constrained  in  the  original,  were  awkward  in 
the  copy — many  of  the  likenesses  had  vanished.  The  arrange- 
ment of  the  whole  appeared  tame  and  unskilful — and  people 
asked,  44  What  is  the  point  of  time?” — 44  It  is  not  the  declara- 
tion,”— “No,  it  is  the  bringing  in  of  the  declaration  by  the 
committee.”  It  was  then  found  that  men  w ho  were  present  at 
the  scene  were  omitted ; and  men  not  present,  or  who  had  not 
even  then  taken  a seat  in  congress,  were  represented  as  actors 
in  the  great  deliberative  drama.  Men  said,  44  Is  history  thus 


Falsehood  of  historical  pictures.  3 77 

to  be  falsified,  and  is  this  record  to  be  placed  in  the  capitol  to 
contradict  the  minutes  of  congress  and  the  truth  ?” 

However,  these  murmurs  died  away.  The  painter  received 
several  thousand  dollars  by  exhibiting  his  picture  before  he 
delivered  it  at  Washington,  and  it  was  received  and  paid  for. 
It  retains  enough  of  the  original  to  make  it  valuable  for  like- 
nesses of  some  distinguished  men,  and  proved  by  far  the  best  of 
the  series  which  had  been  ordered  by  the  government. 

In  the  second  picture  of  this  series,  which  had  likewise  been 
partly  finished  about  1790,  in  its  original  beautiful  miniature 
form,  the  painter  again  violated  truth,  by  introducing  Lord 
Cornwallis  in  the  scene  of  the  surrender  ; and  finding  that  so 
gross  a violation  of  known  fact  was  objected  to,  he  gave  the 
figure  another  name,  and  in  his  catalogue  says,  generally, 
“ the  principal  officers  of  the  British  army.” 

On  another  occasion,  when  a person  who  had  witnessed  the 
inauguration  of  the  first  president  described  the  scene  to  Mr. 
Trumbull,  “ Here  stood  Washington,  in  a suit  of  brown  Am- 
erican broad  cloth ; there  stood  Chancellor  Livingston,  pre- 
pared to  administer  the  oath  prescribed  by  the  constitution  ; 
and  here  stood  Mr.  Otis,  supporting  the  Bible.”  The  painter 
remarked,  “ I would  place  a more  important  personage  in 
that  situation.”  Thus  the  truth  of  history  is  to  be  sacrificed 
to  effect  or  flattery. 

Horace  Walpole  has  said,  u I prefer  portraits  really  inter- 
esting, not  only  to  landscape  painting,  but  to  history,  A 
landscape  is,  we  will  say,  an  exquisite  distribution  of  light  and 
shade,  wood,  water,  and  buildings.  It  is  excellent — -we  pass 
on,  and  it  leaves  not  one  trace  in  the  memory.  In  historical 
painting  there  may  be  sublime  deception , but  it  not  only  al- 
ways falls  short  of  the  idea,  but  it  is  always  false . Thus  it 
has  the  greatest  blemish  incidental  to  history.  It  is  commonly 
false  in  the  costume,  always  in  the  grouping  and  attitudes, 
which  the  painter,  if  not  present,  cannot  possibly  delineate  as 
they  were.  Call  it  fabulous  painting,  I have  no  objection. — 
But  a real  portrait,  we  know,  is  truth  itself;  and  it  calls  up 
so  many  collateral  ideas,  as  to  fill  an  intelligent  mind  more 
than  any  other  species.”  Now,  although  Mr.  Trumbull  did 
not,  and  could  not,  see  any  of  the  scenes  represented  by  him, 
he  had  the  advantage  of  seeing  the  costumes  of  the  persons, 
and  of  painting  the  portraits  of  many  of  the  men,  although 
some  years  after  the  transactions.  He  had  an  opportunity  of 
knowing,  from  Mr.  Jefferson,  Mr.  Adams,  and  others,  and 
from  the  minutes  of  Congress,  who  were  present  when  the 
committee  brought  in  the  Declaration  ; and  Count  Rocham- 

48 


378 


Worse  and  worse. 


bean,  or  other  French  officers  in  Paris,  and  JVashington  and 
his  officers,  could  have  told  him  every  minutiae  of  the  surren- 
der at  York  Town,  The  pictures  should  have  been  portraits 
of  the  events,  as  faithful  as  of  the  faces  of  the  men.  That  the 
painter  should  fail  in  copying  the  features  he  had  put  on  can- 
vas in  early  life,  is  only  to  be  lamented  ; but  just  disappoint- 
ment was  excited  and  expressed  when  men  found  that  the  walls 
of  the  Rotunda  were  to  contradict  the  records  of  history. 

The  second  picture  of  the  series  was  finished  and  was  car- 
ried the  same  round  for  exhibition,  but  with  somewhat  dimin- 
ished profit.  Still,  I believe,  thousands  were  added  to  the 
thousands  paid  for  it  by  the  national  government. 

So  far  the  artist  had  had  his  early  painted  models  to  guide 
him,  but  no  further.  The  “ Surrender  of  Burgoynen  is  alto- 
gether the  work  of  his  declining  years,  except  as  he  had  made 
beautiful  miniature  portraits  of  many  of  the  officers  present, 
when  he  had  his  original  powers,  and  was  fresh  from  his  stu- 
dies with  West.  It  is  a lamentable  falling  off,  even  from  his 
two  immediately  preceding  it.  It  was  exhibited  as  the  others, 
but  with  less  profit. 

The  last  was  another  fresh  composition,  still  worse  in  the 
conception  and  execution.  Several  female  figures  are  intro- 
duced, as  witnesses  of  the  resignation  of  that  commission  under 
which  the  hero  had  fought  the  battles  of  his  country  : but  in- 
stead of  adding  grace  and  beauty  to  the  scene,  they  are  pro- 
minent in  deformity. 

Let  not  foreigners,  or  men  of  after  days,  take  these  pictures* 
because  of  their  situation,  as  a standard  by  which  to  measure 
the  arts  of  design  in  our  country  at  the  time  they  were  painted. 
It  was  my  duty  to  show  the  causes  which  led  to  the  employ- 
ment of  their  painter,  and  I have  faithfully  done  so.  The 
government  judged  of  the  painter’s  ability  from  what  he  had 
done  in  early  life.  They  looked  for  improvement  rather  than 
deterioration.  The  progress  of  the  arts  had  been  great,  and 
good  painters  existed  ; but  the  advantage  of  having  the  por- 
traits of  the  men  of  other  days  in  his  possession,  and  the  exhi- 
bition of  compositions  made  near  thirty  }^ears  before,  under  the 
eye  of  West,  very  naturally  induced  the  statesmen  of  1817  to 
accept  with  joy  the  proposals  of  Mr.  Trumbull.  I have  men- 
tioned American  artists  existing  at  this  time,  whose  works  will 
give  the  true  standard  of  the  art  of  painting  at  the  period  of 
painting  the  four  great  pictures  which  are  now  (1834)  in  the 
capital. 

It  is  necessary  to  mention,  that  before  the  place  designed 
for  their  reception  was  prepared,  they  were  deposited  in  some 


Compensation  for  putting  up  pictures.  379 

lower  apartments  and  occasionally  seen  ; and  that  some  ruf- 
fian, to  express  his  disappointment  or  malice,  cut  through  the 
canvas  of  one  of  them  with  a sharp  instrument.  The  author 
of  this  atrocity  was  never  discovered.  When  the  Rotunda 
was  finished,  the  painter,  with  the  concurrence  of  government, 
repaired  to  Washington,  to  see  his  pictures  put  up  and  retouch 
them.  In  this  service  he  attended  for  a considerable  portion 
of  one  session  of  Congress,  urging  his  suit  for  the  filling 
of  the  remaining  pannels,  at  the  same  time  making  a small 
picture  of  the  Resignation  of  Washington  ; and  unfortunately 
painting  on  other  small  pictures,  particularly  the  original  min- 
iature Battle  of  Princeton.  When  the  sum  to  be  appropriated 
to  this  service  was  in  question,  the  painter  was  offered  the  wages 
of  a member  of  Congress.  He  replied,  “ I am  not  a mem- 
ber of  Congress,  and  never  expect  to  be.  I am  a painter. — 
In  New  York  my  price  for  a portrait,  of  head-size,  is  one 
hundred  dollars ; and  one  such  picture  occupies  one  week. 
I expect  to  be  paid  one  hundred  dollars  a week  for  the  time 
I have  attended  here.” 

I do  not  pretend  to  give  the  exact  words,  but  such  substan- 
tially is  the  fact,  as  related  to  me  by  a member  of  Congress 
then  and  there  present,  who  gave  the  painter  credit  for  the 
answer  and  his  adroit  management.  It  is  unnecessary  to  add 
that  the  demand  was  paid. 

That  the  painter  demanded,  in  New  York,  one  hundred 
dollars  for  a head  or  bust-size  portrait  is  true  ; and  true  that 
he  might  paint  one  a week — but  the  deduction  from  the  pre- 
mises may  be  doubted. 

When  Mr.  Trumbull  first  applied  for  the  painting  of  the 
designs  for  the  Rotunda,  his  application  was  for  eight  pictures, 
the  number  which  would  fill  it.  It  will  be  evident  at  once,  from 
what  l have  said,  that  I consider  it  a most  fortunate  circum- 
stance that  this  contract  was  made  for  four  only.  The  artist 
has  repeatedly  made  application  for  the  honour  of  filling  the 
remaining  four  pannels  ; and  on  every  renewed  effort  our 
journals  have  teemed  with  enumerations  of  his  superior  claims 
to  all  other  artists  in  America  for  such  patriotic  employment. 
One  publication  intended  for  this  purpose  came  avowedly  from 
himself,  and,  in  justice  to  his  character,  will  be  inserted. — 
(The  letters  to  the  President  of  the  United  States,  as  publish- 
ed with  the  resolution  of  the  directors  of  the  American  Acad- 
emy of  the  Fine  Arts.) 

In  the  year  1830  1 attended  a meeting  called  by  the  oppo- 
sers  of  Mr.  Jackson’s  administration,  respecting  the  rights  of 
the  Indians.  I was  told  that  Col.  Willet  was  to  preside.  I 


380 


Letter  to  the,  editor  of  the  American. 

found  Mr.  Trumbull  in  bis  place  : the  veteran,  who  had  serv- 
ed with  honour  through  the  revolutionary  contest,  could  not 
be  had.  Shortly  after  this  meeting  Mr.  Wilde,  in  Congress, 
said,  “ The  painter  had  better  keep  to  his  palette,”  or  words 
to  that  effect.  And  in  the  American,  New-York,  20th  Jan. 
1830,  Mr.  Trumbull  indignantly  spurns  at  the  title.  I pub- 
lish the  letter  to  Wilde,  and  the  introductory  letter  to  the 
Editor. 

New-York,  20th  January,  1830. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  American , 

May  I beg  the  favour  of  you  to  publish  in  your  paper  the 
following  copy  of  a letter  which  1 have  thought  it  my  duty 
to  address  to  the  Hon.  Mr.  Wilde,  in  congress,  the  original 
of  which  I sent  to  him  by  the  mail  two  days  ago,  and  which 
I now  wish  to  make  public  in  consequence  of  the  publicity  of 
his  attack. 

After  having  devoted  ten  of  the  best  years  of  my  life,  in 
very  early  youth  and  in  middle  age,  to  the  active  services  of 
my  country  ; and  having  employed  the  intervals  of  military 
and  political  occupations  in  acquiring  an  elegant  art,  for  the 
very  purpose  of  preserving  through  its  means  the  memory  of 
the  great  events  and  illustrious  men  of  the  revolution  ; I did 
hope  to  enjoy  some  repose  during  the  fragment  of  a life  which 
can  remain  to  a man  who  has  passed  its  ordinary  limits.  It 
appears  cruel  as  towards  me,  and  disgraceful  to  themselves, 
that  so  many  men  in  congress  should  have  continued  to  teaze 
me  with  a repetition  of  paltry  personal  squibs.  They  may 
rest  assured  that,  however  painful  the  task  may  be,  yet,  so 
long  as  my  intellect  and  my  hands  are  spared  to  me,  I shall 
never  fail  to  return  an  answer. 

Yours  truly,  John  Trumbull.” 

New-York,  January  16,  1830. 

Hon.  Mr.  JVilde , in  congress , 

Sir, — In  the  newspapers  of  this  day,  I observe  a sketch 
of  the  debate  which  took  place  in  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives on  the  11th  instant,  on  the  subject  of  the  memorial  from 
this  city,  relating  to  the  Cherokee  Indians,  and  which  was 
signed  by  me  as  chairman  of  the  meeting.  1 am  very  much 
obliged  to  you  for  the  favourable  terms  in  which  you  speak  of 
me  as  an  artist ; but  when  you  recommended  to  “ the  painter 
to  stick  to  his  palette,”  you  perhaps  were  not  aware  that  I 
had  not  been  always,  nor  merely,  a painter. 


Letter  to  Mr.  Wilde. 


381 


You  might  not  know,  that  in  August,  1775,  I was  appoint- 
ed an  Aid-de-camp  of  General  Washington  ; and  that  I am 
the  eldest  of  the  few  survivors  who  ever  had  that  honour. 

You  might  not  know,  that  in  July,  1776,  I was  appointed 
Adjutant  General  of  the  Northern  Department,  with  the  rank 
of  Colonel,  under  the  command  of  General  Gates  ; and  that, 
of  course,  I am  now  one  of  the  oldest  surviving  colonels  of  the 
revolutionary  army.* 

You  might  not  know  that,  in  1794,  I attended  Mr.  Jay,  as 
his  secretary,  in  his  very  important,  though  unpopular  embasys 
to  England. 

And  probably  you  do  not  know  the  triumphant  resul  of 
the  7th  article  of  the  Treaty  then  negotiated  by  him,  relating 
to  the  subject  of  “irregular  or  illegal  captures.” 

The  papers  relating  to  that  subject  were  deposited,  by  the 
American  commissioners,  in  the  department  of  state,  in  1804. 
It  did  not  suit  the  policy  of  the  government,  at  that  time,  to 
give  publicity  to  a result  which  was  so  favourable  to  the  com- 
mercial part  of  the  nation,  and  so  honourable  to  Mr.  Jay  : and 
as  those  papers  perished  when  Washiugton  was  burnt,  it  is 
probable  that  you  are  not  accurately  acquainted  with  the  facts. 
I beg  leave  to  state  them  to  you. 

The  commission  to  which  was  referred  the  subject  of  u irre- 
gular or  illegal  captures,”  was  composed  of  five  members  : — • 
Mr.  Gore  and  Mr.  Pinkney,  on  the  part  of  the  United  States  ; 
Dr.  Nichol  and  Dr.  Swabey,  (two  of  her  most  eminent  civi- 
lians) on  the  part  of  Great  Britain  ; and  I was  the  fifth  com- 
missioner, representing  both  nations.  This  commission  was 
clothed  with  authority  paramount  to  all  courts  of  prize  of  both 
nations.  It  was  very  natural  for  the  two  commissioners  of 
each  party  to  think  their  own  government  generally  right  ; 
and  such  was  the  fact  on  all  important  questions — of  course, 
all  such  questions  remained  to  be  decided,  and  were  decided, 
by  the  fifth  commissioner. 

In  very  many  cases,  the  decisions  of  the  courts  of  both  na- 
tions were  over-ruled  by  us  and  reversed ; and  the  govern- 
ment of  Great  Britain  actually  and  faithfully  paid,  under  our 
awards,  to  citizens  of  the  United  States,  more  than  ten  millions 
of  dollars. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  I hazarded  such  a course  in 
such  society,  during  seven  years,  in  the  city  of  London,  and 
supported  my  decisions  by  written  opinions,  without  having 
devoted  some  time  to  the  study  of  the  law  of  nations. 


* The  preceding  pages  render  any  comment  unnecessary  upon  these  asser- 
tions. 


382  Mr.  Durand  engaged  to  engrave  for  Mr.  Trumbull . 

If  you  had  known  these  facts,  perhaps  you  would  not  have 
thought  it  so  extraordinary  that  “ the  painter  should  now  risk 
an  opinion  on  a question  which  he  regards  as  one  strictly  of 
international  law. 

I reason  thus: — By  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
treaties  are  the  supreme  law  of  the  land,  obligatory  not  merely 
on  all  the  individuals,  but  on  all  the  States  which  compose 
the  nation. 

The  power  of  making  treaties  is  vested  exclusively  in  the 
President  and  Senate. 

Many  treaties  have  been  made  between  the  Presidents  and 
Senates  of  the  United  States  and  the  Cherokee  nation. 

A treaty  can  be  annulled  only  by  the  consent  of  both  the 
contracting  parties,  or  by  the  violent  and  lawless  conductof 
one. 

The  Cherokee  nation,  one  of  the  parties  in  this  case,f  ar 
from  giving  their  consent  to  a dissolution  of  existing  treaties, 
earnestly  insist  upon  their  fulfilment. 

Therefore,  the  present  attempt  to  set  aside  these  treaties, 
by  any  act  of  the  government  of  the  United  States,  or  by  their 
supineness  or  connivance,  does  appear  to  me  to  be  a direct 
and  most  unfair  appeal  to  the  law  of  the  strongest — a prin- 
ciple which  I am  very  reluctant  to  see  acted  upon  by  the  go- 
vernment of  my  country,  in  this  or  any  case. 

Thus  thinking,  and  presuming  that  I am  a free  citizen  of  a 
free  country,  I cannot  be  persuaded  that  I have  acted  im- 
properly in  expressing  my  opinion  on  this  important  subject 
to  the  representatives  of  the  nation  : and  I presume  that  every 
gentleman  who  took  part  in  the  memorial  in  question  will 
most  cordially  subscribe  to  these  opinions. 

Permit  me  to  add,  for  the  information  of  Mr.  Thompson, 
and  whomsoever  it  may  concern,  that  the  meeting,  of  which 
I had  the  high  honour  to  act  as  chairman,  was  not  held  in  a 
grog-shop,  butin  the  most  spacious  hall  in  this  city,  which  was 
literally  filled  by  the  most  respectable  of  its  inhabitants. 

I am,  &c.  &c. 

John  Trumbull. 

After  the  completion  of  the  large  picture  of  the  Declaration, 
the  artist  employed  the  first  American  engraver  for  talent,  to 
give  more  extended  circulation  to  that  composition  by  his 
burin.  He  engaged  A.  B.  Durand,  Esq.,  after  having  failed 
in  a negotiation  with  a celebrated  Italian  engraver,  of  the 
name  of  Gondolfi.  Mr.  Trumbull  applied  to  Heath,  of  Lon- 
don also,  who  demanded  a price  equal  to  $6000.  Mr.  Durand 
agreed  to  engrave  it  for  $3000.  He  was  then  a young  man, 


3S3 


Biographies . 

and  justly  thought  that  the  work  gave  him  an  opportunity  of 
coming  before  the  public,  in  connection  with  a popular  sub- 
ject, and  that  although  it  would  exhaust  at  least  three  years  of 
his  time,  he  had  better  accept  an  inadequate  compensation  for  the 
exertion  of  his  talents,  and  gain,  as  he  had  reason  to  expect, 
an  addition  to  his  fame  as  an  engraver.  In  1829,  Mr.  Trum- 
bull said,  that  in  1780  he  got  270  subscribers  for  his  two 
prints  of  “ Bunker  Hill”  and  “ Montgomery,”  in  the  United 
States,  at  three  guineas  for  each  print,  and  in  1819,  he  could 
only  obtain  the  same  number  for  his  print  of  the  “ Declara- 
tion of  Independence.”  From  this  he  inferred  that  as  the 
population  increases,  the  taste  for  the  fine  arts  decreases. 
Fortunately  for  Americans  the  plate  was  engraved  from  the 
small  original  picture,  and  the  engraver  has  preserved  the  real 
portraits  of  the  eminent  men  introduced.  We  speak  without 
hesitation  on  this  point,  having  known  most  of  the  originals. 
Mr.  Durand  likewise  corrected  the  drawing  of  several  parts  of 
the  picture,  by  consent,  and  with  the  approbation  of  the 
painter. 

The  perseverance  with  which  Mr.  Trumbull  pursued  his 
plan  of  painting  more  great  pictures  for  the  government,  not 
only  to  fill  the  four  remaining  pannels  of  the  rotunda,  but  to 
fill  the  president’s  house,  and  the  engines  he  set  at  work  with 
even  more  assiduity  than  when  he  made  his  successful  applica- 
tion to  congress,  are  subjects  of  admiration.  Presenting 
himself  at  the  seat  of  government,  he  again,  as  at  the  former 
period,  procured  what  is  called  his  biography,  to  be  circulated 
there  and  elsewhere  in  the  newspapers.  In  December  1826, 
the  National  Intelligencer  announces  that  the  four  great  pic- 
tures are  in  their  places  in  the  capitol — that  Col.  Trumbull  is  at 
Washington — that  his  powers  are  undiminished,  and  promises 
his  biography.  On  the  29th  of  December  1826,  there  appear- 
ed in  the  New-York  Times,  “ Biographical  notices  of  Colonel 
Trumbull,  author  of  those  paintings  of  subjects  from  the 
History  of  the  Revolution,  which  are  now  placed  in  the  great 
hall  of  the  capitol  of  Washington.”  The  writer  then  praises 
the  pictures,  but  acknowledges  that  “ since  they  have  been 
removed  to  the  seat  of  government”  they  “ have  been  bitterly 
criticised.”  After  going  through  the  military  and  civil  servi- 
ces of  Colonel  Trumbull,  the  biographer  eulogizes  the  four 
pictures  in  which  “ this  nation,”  he  says,  “ possesses  a work 
which  no  other  people  have  yet  possessed.”  He  then  proceeds  ; 
“ We  are  happy  to  hear,  from  the  proceedings  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  that  there  is  an  intention  to  fill  the  remaining 
vacant  spaces  in  the  Grand  Hall  with  other  paintings  of  revo- 


384 


Letters  to  the  president . 


lutionary  events,  and  hope  sincerely  that  the  importance  will 
be  felt,  of  employing  the  few  remaining  years  of  this  veteran 
soldier  and  artist  in  this  work.  No  one  else  devoted  his  youth 
to  the  necessary  studies . No  one  else  has  given  years  of 
thought  and  labour  to  the  preservation  of  the  memory  of  the 
great  events  of  that  distant  day.  He  alone  appears  to  have 
made  it  the  study  of  a long  life  ; and  strange  will  it  appear  to 
other  nations,  and  to  posterity,  if  under  such  circumstances, 
half  of  this  magnificent  room  should  be  filled  with  imaginary 
scenes  delineated  by  men  who  have  no  personal  knowledge  of  the 
events , and  who  have  hitherto  scarcely  given  the  dream  of  an 
idle  hour  to  the  subject.”  So  are  mankind  deceived  by  bold 
assertions,  without  any  foundation  in  truth. 

Mr.  Trumbull’s  best  pictures  are  “imaginary  scenes;” 
they  could  be  no  other.  His  only  advantage  over  better 
painters,  of  1826,  was  that  he  had  collected  portraits  of  many 
men,  (after  he  returned  from  England,  and  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment was  established)  who  had  served  their  country  in  the 
field  and  the  council.  He  has  great  merit  in  so  doing,  and  has 
reaped  the  advantage. 

This  biography  of  1826,  must  be  taken  in  connection  with 
the  following  letters  addressed  by  Mr.  Trumbull  to  the  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  on  the  25th  and  28th  of  December, 
1826,  four  days  before  the  “ Biographical  notices”  appeared 
in  the  Times  at  New-York. 

“Washington,  25th  December,  1826. 

“ To  the  President  of  the  United  States. 

“ Sir, — I beg  permission  to  submit  to  your  consideration 
the  following  plan  for  the  permanent  encouragement  of  the  fine 
arts  in  the  United  States  : public  protection  has  already  been 
extended,  in  a very  effectual  manner,  to  various  branches  of 
the  public  industry  employed  in  manufactures  of  different 
kinds  ; and  I wish  to  call  the  attention  of  the  government  to 
the  fine  arts,  which,  although  hitherto  overlooked,  may,  1 
trust,  be  rendered  a valuable,  as  well  as  an  honourable  branch 
of  the  national  prosperity,  by  very  simple  and  unexpensive 
means. 

“ 1 would  propose  that  whenever  an  event,  political,  naval,  or 
military,  shall  occur,  which  shall  be  regarded  by  the  govern- 
ment as  of  sufficient  importance  to  be  recorded  as  matter  of 
history,  the  most  eminent  painter  of  the  time,  be  ordered  to 
paint  a picture  of  the  same,  to  be  placed  in  some  of  the 
national  buildings — that  an  artist  of  secondary  talent  be 
employed  to  make  a copy  of  the  same,  which  shall  be  given  to 


385 


How  to  make  money  by  making  presents . 

the  minister,  admiral,  or  general  under  whose  direction  or  com- 
mand the  event  shall  have  taken  place,  as  a testimony  of  the 
approbation  and  gratitude  of  the  nation. 

“ It  appears  to  me  that  this  would  operate  as  a powerful 
stimulus  to  the  ambition  and  exertions  of  the  national  servants 
in  their  various  departments,  as  well  as  an  effectual  encourage- 
ment to  artists,  and  an  honourable  mode  of  exciting  their 
unremitting  endeavours  to  attain  to  the  highest  possible  degrees 
of  eminence. 

“ I would  next  propose,  that  the  most  distinguished  engraver 
of  the  day  should  be  employed  to  engrave  a copperplate  from 
the  painting  so  executed,  and  that  one  thousand  impressions, 
first  printed  from  this  plate,  be  reserved  by  government  for 
the  purpose  hereafter  designated  ; the  remaining  impressions 
which  may  be  printed,  to  be  sold,  and  the  proceeds  applied  to 
a fund  destined  to  defray  the  expense  of  the  plan. 

“ This  part  of  the  plan  is  founded  on  the  experience  of  indi- 
viduals who  have  pursued  the  business  of  publishing  and 
selling  engravings,  many  of  whom,  after  paying  the  painter, 
the  engraver,  the  paper-maker,  the  printer,  and  all  the  various 
expenses  of  publication,  have  acquired  considerable  fortunes 
in  reward  of  their  enterprise  and  exertions. 

“ This  was  particularly  instanced  by  the  late  Alderman  Boy- 
dell,  of  London,  who,  (himself  an  engraver,)  in  the  beginning 
of  the  reign  of  George  III.  found  England  paying  annually  to 
France  and  other  nations,  for  this  article  of  ornamental  furni- 
ture, engravings,  near  $200,000,  and  lived  to  see  (in  conse- 
quence of  a judicious  encouragement  of  the  fine  arts  by  the 
sovereign  and  his  own  individual  exertions,)  England  receiving 
from  France  and  other  nations,  a balance  considerably 
exceeding  that  sum,  making  a difference  in  favour  of  England 
of  more  than  $400,000  a year.  Reasoning  on  this  experi- 
ence, it  is  manifest  that  this  nation  may  be  probably  indemni- 
fied for  the  entire  expense  of  the  project,  by  the  sale  of  those 
impressions  which  may  be  taken  from  the  plates  after  the  first 
thousand,  which  would  remain  to  be  diposed  of  as  follows  : — 
“ Every  minister  of  the  United  States,  going  abroad  on  a 
mission,  should  be  furnished  with  one  (or  a set)  of  these  reserved 
engravings,  as  an  article  of  his  outfit;  they  should  be  hand- 
somely framed  and  hung  in  the  most  public  and  elegant 
apartments  of  his  foreign  residence — not  so  much  for  the 
purpose  of  ornament,  as  of  showing  the  people  among  whom 
he  resided,  at  once  an  historical  record  of  important  events 
and  an  evidence  of  our  advance,  not  only  in  political,  naval, 

49 


386  Encouragement  of  talent 

and  military  greatness,  but  also  in  those  arts  of  peace  which 
embellish  and  adorn  even  greatness  itself. 

“ Every  minister  of  a foreign  nation  returning  home  from  a 
residence  among  us,  should  also  receive  one  (or  a set)  of 
those  prints,  in  a handsome  port-folio ; and  the  same  compli- 
ment might  occasionally  be  paid  to  foreigners  of  distinction, 
visiting  the  country  from  motives  of  curiosity  or  a desire  of 
improvement,  in  the  discretion  of  government. 

“ An  historical  record  of  memorable  events,  and  a monu- 
mental tribute  of  gratitude  and  respect  to  the  distinguished  ser- 
vants of  the  nation,  would  thus  be  preserved  in  a series  of  paint- 
ings of  unquestionable  authenticity;  the  principal  works  adorn- 
ing the  public  edifices  and  placing  before  the  eyes  of  posterity 
the  glorious  examples  of  the  past,  and  thus  urging  them  to 
that  emulation  which  may  render  the  future  yet  more  glorious  ; 
the  smaller  works  in  possession  of  the  immediate  descendants 
of  those  who  had  thus  received  the  thanks  of  the  country,  de- 
corating private  houses  with  the  proud  evidence  of  individual 
service  and  of  national  gratitude,  and  thus  kindling  all  the 
talent  and  energy  of  succeeding  generations  to  elevate,  if 
possible,  at  least  not  to  diminish  the  honour  of  the  name  and 
nation ; while  the  engravings  in  a more  portable,  more  mul- 
tiplied and  less  expensive  form  would  disseminate  through  the 
world  evidence  of  the  greatness  and  gratitude  of  the  United 
States. 

“ Talent  for  all  the  elegant  arts  abounds  in  this  country,  and 
nothing  is  wanting  to  carry  their  votaries  to  the  highest  rank 
of  modern  or  even  ancient  attainment,  but  encouragement  and 
cultivation;  and  although  all  cannot  hope  to  rise  or  be  sus- 
tained in  the  most  elevated  rank,  still  the  less  successful  com- 
petitors would  become  eminently  useful  by  turning  their 
abilities  to  the  aid  of  manufactures.  It  is  the  overflowing  of 
the  schools  and  the  academies  of  France  which  has  given  to 
the  manufacture  of  porcelain  at  Sevres,  and  of  or-molu 
time-pieces  and  ornaments  in  Paris,  that  high  pre-eminence 
over  the  rival  attempts  of  other  nations,  which  drives  them 
almost  entirely  from  the  markets  of  elegance,  and  thus  becomes 
the  source  of  very  considerable  wealth  to  France. 

“ The  history  of  the  United  States  already  abounds  in 
admirable  subjects  for  the  pencil  and  the  chisel,  which  should 
not  be  suffered  to  sink  into  oblivion  : the  last  wrar  especially, 
is  full  of  them,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  this  is  the  proper  field 
for  the  present  and  rising  artists  to  cultivate;  the  field  is  not 
only  fertile  and  extensive,  but  is  hitherto  untouched,  and 
seems  to  solicit  their  patriotic  labours  and  to  chide  their  delay. 


387 


Utility  of  the  fine  arts. 

They  are  cotemporaries  and  familiar  with  the  actors  and  the 
scenes  they  are  called  to  commemorate,  and  can  therefore 
fulfil  the  duty  with  enthusiasm,  a knowledge  of  facts,  and  a 
degree  of  absolute  authenticity,  which  ensures  success  and 
would  give  real  value  to  their  works.  Nor  should  it  be  for- 
gotten, that  the  stream  of  time  is  continually,  though  silently, 
bearing  away  from  our  view,  objects,  circumstances  and 
eminent  forms,  which  memory  can  never  recall. 

“ The  public  buildings  offer  fine  situations  for  the  display 
of  works  of  this  nature,  not  only  in  various  apartments  of  the 
capitol,  but  in  the  house  of  the  president,  where  the  great 
room  now  furnishing,  would  with  more  propriety  and  eco- 
nomy be  enriched  by  subjects  of  national  history,  executed  by 
our  own  artists,  than  loaded  with  expensive  mirrors  and  all 
the  frivolous  and  perishable  finery  of  fashionable  upholstery. 

“ By  giving,  in  such  way  as  I have  here  taken  the  liberty 
to  suggest,  a right  direction  and  suitable  encouragement  to 
the  fine  arts,  they  may  be  rendered  essentially  subservient  to 
the  highest  moral  purposes  of  human  society,  and  be  redeemed 
from  the  disgraceful  and  false  imputation  under  which  they 
have  long  been  oppressed,  of  being  only  the  base  and  flatter- 
ing instruments  of  royal  and  aristocratic  luxury  and  vice. 

“ I do  not  pretend  to  originality,  sir,  in  submitting  to  you 
these  ideas  ; Athens  in  ancient  times,  and  Venice,  in  the  best 
days  of  that  republic,  acted  on  these  principles  to  a certain 
extent.  All  civilized  nations  have  made  the  arts  useful  auxi- 
liaries of  history,  by  the  means  of  medals  ; and  it  is  even 
said,  that  this  very  system  was  proposed  to  Louis  the  XVI.  of 
France  and  approved  by  him,  but  prevented  from  being  car- 
ried into  effect,  by  the  long  train  of  succeeding  calamities.  I 
have  only  attempted  to  adapt  the  general  idea  to  the  circum- 
stances of  our  country  and  times,  and  I cannot  but  believe, 
that  not  only  artists  and  manufacturers  would  derive  great 
advantage  from  the  adoption  of  some  such  plan,  but  that  the 
honour  and  the  essential  interests  of  the  nation  would  thereby 
be  eminently  advanced. 

“ With  very  great  respect, 

u l have  the  honour  to  be,  sir, 

“ Your  most  faithful  servant, 

“John  Trumbull.” 


388 


Cheap  way  of  buying  pictures. 


“ Washington,  28th  December,  1826. 

“ To  the  President  of  the  United  States. 

44  Sir, — Permit  me  to  place  before  you  an  estimate  of  the 
expense  which  would  be  incurred  by  the  government  of  the 
United  States,  in  carrying  into  effect  the  plan  for  the  perma- 
nent encouragement  of  the  fine  arts,  which  I had  the  honour 
of  submitting  to  you  in  a letter  dated  the  25th  instant. 
Taking  for  the  purpose  a single  event  for  commemoration, 
with  which  it  would  perhaps  be  proper  to  commence. 

The  United  States  Dr.  for  a painting  tc  be  placed  in  the  large 
room  of  the  president’s  house  ; the  size  not  to  exceed  6 by  9 
feet,  nor  smaller  than  4 by  6 feet,  with  figures  half  the  size 
of  life, 

For  a copy  of  the  same  half  the  dimensions,  to  be  given  to 
whomsoever, 

For  an  engraved  copperplate  from  the  same,  in  size  14  by  21 
inches, 

For  paper  and  printing  two  thousand  impressions  at  50  cents, 
one  thousand  to  be  retained,  and  one  thousand  for  sale, 

$6,500 

The  United  States  Cr„  by  proceeds  of  sale  of  one  thou-  ) ^ 1n 
sand  impressions  at  10  dollars,  \ ® 1 

Deduct  the  usual  commission  on  sales,  25  per  cent.  $2,500 
For  possible  losses  and  damage,  1,000 

$3,500 

$6,500 

44  The  above  statement  is  founded  on  my  own  personal  know- 
ledge and  experience  ; and  thence  it  is  demonstrated,  that  if 
only  one  thousand  impressions  of  the  plate  should  be  sold,  the 
account  would  be  balanced,  with  no  other  expense  to  the  na- 
tion than  the  interest  of  6,500  dollars,  during  the  interval  be- 
tween paying  the  several  articles  of  charge  and  the  receipt  of 
the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  prints.  And  you  will  permit  me  to 
add,  that  one  thousand  impressions  are  a small  number  to  sell 
of  good  works  published  by  individuals  ; and  that  a greater 
number  would  probably  be  sold  of  a work  published  under 
the  orders  and  authority  of  the  nation,  and  thus  bearing  the 
stamp  of  perfect  authenticity. 

“ I have  stated  the  price  of  the  principal  picture  at  that  sum, 
which  1 should  have  been  delighted  to  receive  for  a similar 
work  at  the  time  when  I painted  the  Battle  of  Bunker’s  Hill, 
in  1786,  and  which  I believe  would  be  satisfactory  at  this  time 
to  distinguished  artists,  in  Paris  or  London,  and  I have  fixed 
the  price  of  the  copy  by  the  same  rule.  I should  have  been 
happy  to  have  received  that  sum  in  1675,  for  a copy  I then 


^ $2,500 

| 500 

| 2,500 

j 1,000 


Engraving,  its  value.  389 

made  for  Mr.  West,  of  his  celebrated  picture  of  the  Battle  of 
La  Hogue. 

“ The  price  at  which  I have  estimated  the  engraving  of  a 
copperplate,  14  inches  by  21  in  size,  is  suggested  by  that 
which  1 paid  to  Mr.  Durand  for  engraving  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  3000  dollars.  The  size  of  that  plate  is  20  by 
30  inches,  nearly  one-third  larger  than  that  proposed  in  my 
estimate.  I presume  that  2,500  dollars  for  the  smaller  plate 
proposed  would  command  the  first  abilities  in  the  country. 

“ The  price  of  printing,  in  like  manner,  is  estimated  by  my 
own  experience  : each  sheet  of  the  Declaration,  on  grand 
eagle  paper,  cost  me  nearly  75  cents  for  paper  and  printing. 
That  is  much  larger,  and  of  course  the  labour  and  expense  of 
printing  is  much  greater,  than  is  requisite  for  the  contemplated 
purpose. 

“ 1 propose  pictures  of  moderate  dimensions,  as  being  best 
suited  to  the  apartments  in  the  President’s  house,  or  the  com- 
mittee rooms  of  the  capitol  : and  I propose  copper-plates 
smaller  than  that  of  the  Declaration  ; because  the  sale  of  that 
print  is  impeded  by  the  necessity  of  large  and  expensive 
frames  and  glasses,  or  portfolios  for  their  preservation.  Should 
it  be  thought  more  consistent  with  the  dignity  of  a national 
work  to  adopt  a larger  size  for  the  copper-plate,  a correspond- 
ing larger  sum  must  be  paid  to  the  engraver  : but,  as  in  that 
case  it  would  be  proper  to  increase  the  price  of  the  impres- 
sions sold,  no  difference  unfavourable  to  the  plan  would  arise, 
in  respect  to  my  estimate. 

“ I have  allowed  one  thousand  dollars  for  possible  loss  or 
damage  on  the  sale  of  the  prints  ; but  loss  to  that  extent  is  by 
no  means  probable,  and  any  saving  on  that  article  of  the  esti- 
mate would  go  in  diminution  of  interest.  So  that  it  appears, 
that  with  very  little  expense,  beyond  the  mere  patronage  of 
government , the  fine  arts  may  be  stimulated  and  encouraged, 
the  national  edifices  decorated,  authentic  monuments  of  na- 
tional history  preserved,  elegant  and  attractive  rewards  be- 
stowed on  the  meritorious  servants  of  the  public,  and  the  na- 
tional glory  essentially  advanced. 

“ With  great  respect  I have  the  honour  to  be, 

“ Sir,  your  most  faithful  servant, 

“ Jno.  Trumbull.” 

These  letters,  and  the  biographical  notices  pointing  out 
“ the  most  eminent  painter  of  the  time,”  did  not  produce  the 


390 


Remarks  on  the  letters. 


intended  effect.  Mr.  Trumbull  returned  from  attending  con- 
gress, and  in  April,  1827,  as  the  minutes  of  the  Academy  over 
which  he  presides  inform  us,  “ read  copies  of  two  letters 
proposing  a plan  for  the  permanent  encouragement  of  the  fine 
arts,  by  the  national  government,  &c.  &c.,  and  requested  that 
these  copies  (in  his  own  handwriting)  might  be  deposited 
among  the  archives  of  the  academy.”  Whereupon,  the  board 
of  directors,  consisting  of  fifteen  persons,  of  whom  three  were 
artists,  including  the  president,  resolved  that  five  hundred  co- 
pies of  these  letters  should  be  printed  and  distributed  for  the 
benefit  of  the  fine  arts ; which  was  accordingly  done.  In 
these  letters,  the  price  which  Mr.  Trumbull  fixed  as  a remune- 
ration to  the  first  engraver  in  the  United  States,  is  founded  on 
that  which  he  gave  Mr.  A.  Durand,  that  is,  three  thousand 
dollars.  It  is  well  known  that  Mr.  Durand  agreed  to  take 
that  sum,  merely  as  a young  man’s  first  step  to  celebrity,  as 
the  engraver  of  a popular  subject,  and  that  Heath  demanded 
six  thousand  ; so  that  the  president,  perhaps,  notwithstanding 
the  prospect  of  making  cheap  presents  to  distinguished  indivi- 
duals, might  have  been  led  into  an  unprofitable  speculation. 
I will  remark  on  the  passage  in  these  letters  which  asserts  that 
works  having  been  ordered  by  the  nation,  bear  “ the  stamp  of 
perfect  authenticity,”  that  it  appears  to  be  meant  as  an  answer 
to  those  who  have  asserted  from  their  own  knowledge,  that, 
although  the  author’s  pictures  were  ordered  by  congress,  they 
did  not  represent  the  truth  of  history. 

About  the  time  of  completing  the  last  of  the  series  of  pic- 
tures for  the  capital,  Mr.  Trumbull  became  a widower,  and 
soon  after  gave  up  the  house  in  which  he  had  painted  those 
great  works,  (the  north  corner  of  Park-place  and  Church- 
street,)  and  failing  in  his  efforts  to  procure  an  order  for  more 
pictures  from  government,  he  employed  his  pencil  in  painting 
portraits  of  many  of  his  friends,  gratuitously,  and  in  making 
copies  from  the  works  of  older  artists,  with,  generally,  varia- 
tions to  please  his  own  taste. 

On  Monday,  June  14,  1824,  Mr.  Trumbull  opened  for  ex- 
hibition his  last  picture  for  the  government,  the  Resignation 
of  Washington.  It  was  exhibited  six  weeks;  and  the  Com- 
mercial Advertiser  told  the  world  that  “ its  exhibition  had  not 
paid  room  rent.”  Mr.  Trumbull  then  went  with  his  picture 
to  Albany,  intending,  as  I understood,  to  travel  with  it  until 
he  placed  it  in  Washington.  This  is  a sad  contrast  to  the 
profit  which  his  first  picture  for  congress  gave  from  exhibition. 

I have  mentioned  his  admirable  copies  made  in  London, 
when  under  the  roof  of  West.  It  is  a curious  and  singular 


391 


Gallery  at  Yale  College . 

fact,  that  as  the  talent  of  this  artist  declined  for  original  com- 
position, so  his  powers  for  copying  failed ; and  both  appear 
to  have  decayed  simultaneously.  The  number  of  Madonnas 
and  holy  families  from  his  pencil  is  a proof  of  his  praiseworthy 
perseverance,  and  of  an  utter  blindness  to  the  change  which 
his  judgment  had  undergone.  I have  seen  exhibited,  in  the 
same  place,  the  exquisite  copies  of  the  St.  Jerome  of  Correggio 
and  the  Madonna  of  Raphael,  with  the  holy  family,  painted 
as  his  academical  gift  to  the  institution  over  which  he  presides 
— and  1 defy  the  annals  of  painting  to  show  a greater  con- 
trast. 

A more  unfortunate  employment  of  the  artist  has  been,  after 
an  interval  of  almost  half  a centuary,  to  complete,  as  he  calls 
it,  those  pictures  begun  in  1787  or  8,  or  1790,  by  painting  in 
figures  and  heads  which  had  been  omitted.  In  every  instance 
the  recent  touch  is  a blot,  and  the  works  injured  by  his  mis- 
applied industry. 

Fortunately,  the  miniature  original  of  the  “ Declaration” 
had  very  few  heads  to  be  finished.  The  battles  of  Princeton 
and  Trenton  had  more  to  fill  up,  and  consequently  have  suf- 
fered more. 

We  now  return  to  the  manuscript  dictated  by  Mr.  Trumbull 
to  Mr.  Herring  for  publication,  and  partly  published  in  Long- 
acre  and  Herring’s  “ National  Portrait  Gallery.”  “ At  the 
close  of  the  war  he  returned  to  New-York.  In  1816  he  was 
engaged  by  the  government  to  paint  the  four  large  pictures 
now  in  the  rotunda  of  the  capitol  at  Washington,  on  which  he 
was  occupied  seven  years.  Since  which  he  has  been  princi- 
pally employed  in  the  ordinary  pursuits  of  an  artist’s  life ; and 
though  now  at  an  advanced  age,  is  still  pursuing  his  design 
of  completing  his  series  of  copies  of  his  national  pictures  on  a 
uniform  scale  of  six  feet  by  nine.  Finding  the  government 
not  likely  to  order  the  complete  series,  nor  any  individual  de- 
sirous to  possess  them,  he  has,  within  the  last  year,  given  the 
entire  set  of  the  original  paintings  to  Yale  College  ; and  a 
building  has  been  erected  by  the  president  and  fellows  of  that 
institution  for  their  preservation.” 

I think  it  is  due  to  the  president  and  fellows,  and  the  insti- 
tution generally,  to  say  that  this  gift  was,  and  is  a bargain, 
by  which  the  artist  receives  fifteen  hundred  dollars  annually 
during  life,  either  from  the  receipts  of  the  exhibition  or  other- 
wise. 

The  building  cost  84000,  and  there  are  two  galleries,  one 
appropriated  to  Mr.  Trumbull’s  paintings  exclusively,  the 
other  containing  Smybert’s  Berkeley  family,  (which  I found 


392 


Pictures  deposited  at  Yale  College. 

far  superior  to  my  recollection  of  it ; the  dean,  the  amanuensis, 
and  the  artist,  are  finely  painted,)  and  a number  of  portraits, 
some  good,  and  some  good  for  nothing.  The  galleries  are 
both  well  designed,  and  the  pictures  show  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage.* 


* I will  here  give  the  titles  of  the  Trumbull  pictures,  from  the  catalogue 
drawn  up  by  the  artist,  with  such  remarks  as  are  suggested  by  a recent  visit  in 
August  1834: — 

No.  1.  “Preparation  for  the  Entombment  of  the  Saviour,”  painted  1827. 
This  is  a copy  with  intended  amendments. 

No.  2.  “ The  Battle  of  Bunker’s  Hill,”  painted  in  Mr.  West’s  house  in  1786. 
A perfect  contrast  to  No.  1,  both  in  drawing  and  colouring,  and  full  of  excellence 
and  beauty.  It  is  much  injured  by  the  cracking  of  the  paint,  and  has  been  re- 
paired by  the  artist.  This  is  a jewel. 

No.  3.  “ The  Death  of  Gen.  Montgomery,”  painted  immediately  after  No.  2, 
in  the  same  place,  and  under  the  same  eye,  and  even  more  perfect.  A brighter 
jewel,  but  injured  after  the  same  manner. 

No.  4.  “Battle  of  Princeton.”  x\n  instructive  sketch. 

No.  5.  “ The  Declaration  of  Independence.”  The  heads  painted  in  1787-9, 
and  very  beautiful,  but  the  composition  not  so  good  as  the  two  last,  and  much 
of  the  drawing  very  inferior.  Still  the  greater  number  of  the  heads  renders  it 
very  valuable. 

No.  6.  “ Capture  of  the  Hessians  at  Trenton.”  All  that  is  good  in  this  pic- 
ture was  painted  in  1789  and  shortly  after.  What  is  good  is  very  good,  but 
unfortunately  the  artist  undertook.,  in  after  life,  to  finish  it,  and  every  touch  is  a 
blot.  To  look  at  the  hands  and  compare  them  to  the  heads,  excites  astonish- 
ment. Washington’s  head  and  Smith’s  are  jewels — the  hands  are  very  bad. 

No.  7.  “ Copy  of  Correggio’s  St.  Jerome.”  This  is  a jewel  ; but  I think 
copied  from  West’s  copy.  This  was  painted  when  the  artist  was  a pupil  of 
West’s,  in  1781. 

No.  8.  Copy  of  Raphael’s  “ Madonna  della  Sedia,”  “ painted,”  says  Mr.  Trum- 
bull, “ in  London,  in  the  house  and  under  the  eye  of  Mr.  West.” 

No.  9.  “ Madonna  au  Corset  Rouge,”  copied  in  1801. 

No.  10.  “ Death  of  General  Mercer  at  the  Battle  of  Princeton.”  I presume 
from  the  excellence  of  this  composition,  as  I saw  it  in  1790,  that  it  was  designed 
under  Mr.  West’s  roof  and  eye — if  not  very  shortly  after.  The  artist  has,  as 
he  calls  it,  “ accomplished  his  original  purpose  but  it  is  not  so — he  has  ac- 
complished the  destruction  of  his  sketch.  The  heads  of  Washington  and  some 
few  near  him,  have  all  the  merit  of  Mr.  Trumbull’s  miniature  heads  of  that 
time,  (1787-8-9,  &c.)  but  the  foreground  figures  are  all  comparatively  bad. 

No.  11.  “ Surrender  of  General  Burgoyne.”  This  is  a copy  in  miniature  from 
the  large  picture  at  Washington;  and  both  being  the  work  of  late  years,  both 
are,  compared  with  former  work,  very  poor.  Let  any  one  of  common  sense,  or 
sight,  compare  this  with  the  artist’s  work  done  in  West’s  house,  London,  or 
soon  after,  and  the  contrast  will  strike  beyond  previous  conception. 

No.  12.  “The  Death  of  Paulus  Emilius,”  painted  at  Lebanon,  1774.  Mere 
boy’s  work. 

No.  13.  “ Surrender  of  Lord  Cornwallis.”  Most  of  the  heads  painted  in 
1787-8-9.  They  are  exquisitely  beautiful  miniatures.  See  the  head  of  Ro- 
chambeau.  The  head  of  Washington  has  been  finished  lately. 

No.  14.  “Resignation  of  General  Washington,”  copied  from  the  large  pic- 
ture at  Washington. 

No.  15.  “Our  Saviour  Bearing  the  Cross,  &c.”  This  is  a match  for  No.  1. 

No.  16.  “Our  Saviour  with  Little  Children,”  painted  in  London,  1812.  I 


393 


Catechism  of  Mr.  TrumbulVs  biography. 

Mr.  Herring’s  manuscript  concludes  thus,  after  mentioning  the 
gift  to  Yale  College,  and  the  building  erected  to  preserve  the 
paintings — “ in  which  they  w ill  be  united  by  a number  of  pic- 
tures, by  the  most  distinguished  painters  of  various  periods — - 
Trumbull  gallery.” 

No  American  painter  has  ever  received  from  government 
such  patronage  as  Mr.  Trumbull  ; and  in  the  decline  of  life 
he  receives,  as  a reward  for  his  military  services,  a pension, 
which,  though  not  adequate  to  his  merits,  may,  when  added 
to  the  income  from  his  pictures  at  Yale  College,  afford  those 
comforts  and  enjoyments  which  old  age  so  much  requires  to 
smooth  the  passage  to  the  tomb. 


have  spoken  so  fully  of  this  picture  and  “The  Woman  taken  in  Adultery,”  that 
I pass  them  over  here. 

No.  17.  “ Peter  the  Great  at  Narva,”  painted  1811.  A picture  of  no  merit. 

No.  19.  “ St.  John  and  Lamb,”  has  much  beauty,  and  was  painted  in  1800. 

No.  20.  “ Portrait  of  General  Washington,”  painted  in  Philadelphia,  1793. 
Without  merit  of  any  kind. 

No.  21.  “Knighting  of  De  Wilton,”  painted  in  London,  1810.  A laboured 
picture  of  little  merit,  except  armour  and  drapery  painting. 

No.  22.  “Portrait  of  Alexander  Hamilton.”  Not  like. 

No.  23.  “Holy  Family,”  composed  in  London,  1802 — finished  in  America, 
1806.  Beautifully  painted,  but  without  originality  of  thought. 

No. .24.  “ President  Dwight.”  Not  a good  portrait  or  picture,  compared  to 
the  artist’s  early  works. 

No.  25.  “General  Washington,”  a full  length,  painted  in  1792.  This  is,  in 
many  respects,  a fine  picture,  and  painted  in  the  artist’s  best  days. 

No.  26.  “The  Revolutionary  Governor  of  Connecticut,  Jonathan  Trumbull,” 
father  of  the  artist.  I presume  a good  portrait. 

No.  27.  “Infant  Saviour  and  St.  John,”  painted  in  London,  1801.  Beautifully 
executed,  but  without  originality. 

No.  28.  “Portrait  of  the  Hon.  Rufus  King.”  A poor  portrait,  although 
.painted  in  1800. 

No.  29.  “ Lamderg  and  Gelchossa,”  painted  1809.  A laboured  picture  with- 
out merit. 

No.  30.  “Portrait  of  Mr.  Gore,”  painted  1800. 

No.  31.  “Maternal  Tenderness,”  painted  1809. 

No.  32  to  No.  42.  Miniatures  in  oil,  painted  in  the  artist’s  best  days,  from 
1790  to  1792,  and  only  rivaled  by  the  exquisitely  beautiful  heads  painted  in  the 
small  historical  pictures  from  1786  to  1792.  These  are  studies  for  the  artist. 

No.  43.  Five  heads.  Oil  miniatures,  painted  1827,  in  imitation  of  the  former 
happy  style,  but  forming  a perfect  contrast. 

Mr.  Trumbull  unfortunately  believed,  that  in  1827  his  sight  and  his  judgment 
enabled  him  to  paint  as  in  1786  or  1792,  and  in  consequence  has  injured  the 
small  historical  pictures  of  that  period  to  a lamentable  degree.  Let  the  student 
admire  and  profit  by  the  early  works  of  this  artist;  but  beware  of  the  opinion 
that  there  is  any  thing  to  imitate  in  the  later  efforts  of  his  pencil:  let  him  look 
at  the  hands  in  the  Death  of  Montgomery  and  those  of  later  date,  and  he  must 
understand  me. 


50 


394 


William  Winstanley. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

William  Winstanley—  S.  King — Mr.  S.  King  gives  instruction  to  Mr.  Allston  and 
Miss  Hall — Archibald  Robertson — Born  near  Aberdeen — Studies  drawing  at 
Edinburgh,  1782,  with  Weir  and  Raeburn—  Studies  in  London — Determines  to 
visit  America — Opinion  of  that  "country — Disappointed — The  Wallace  box — Mr. 
Robertson  paints  the  President  and  Mrs.  Washington — Guiseppe  Ceracchi— 
Employed  by  the  Pope  in  conjunction  with  Canova — Visits  England — Visits 
America — Intended  monument — Bust  of  Washington — Returns  to  Europe — 
Attempts  to  assassinate  Bonaparte — Uncertainty  of  the  mode  of  his  death— 
Benjamin  Trott — Jeremiah  Paul. 

WILLIAM  WINSTANLEY— 1790. 

This  young  man  was  understood  to  have  come  to  NeW- 
York  on  some  business  connected  with  the  Episcopal  church. 

He  was  of  a good  family  in  England,  and  had  received  a 
gentlemanly  education.  At  his  first  arrival  he  was  well  re- 
ceived among  our  first  and  best  citizens,  and  was  ultimate  at 
the  house  of  Bishop  Benjamin  Moore.  He  became  well 
known  to  the  public  in  1795,  by  painting  and  exhibiting  a pa- 
norama of  London,  as  seen  from  the  Albion  Mills,  Blackfriar’s 
Bridge.  This  was  the  first  picture  of  the  kind  ever  seen  in 
America,  and  was  exhibited  in  Greenwich-street,  New-York. 

In  another  part  of  this  work  it  is  stated  that  a friend  of 
mine  furnished  the  money  either  in  part  or  the  whole,  to 
enable  Barker  to  get  up  the  first  panorama  ever  executed, 
which  was  of  Edinburgh.  Barker  afterward  painted  the  pano- 
rama of  London,  and  had  it  engraved  and  published  in  six  prints 
of  24  inches  each.  These  prints  were  brought  to  America  by 
Mr.  Laing,  the  brother-in-law  of  my  friend,  and  were, 
through  Mr.  Alexander  Robertson,  lent  to  Winstanley.  The 
reader  may  see  in  the  biography  of  Stuart,  how  Mr.  Laing 
was  repaid.  These  panoramic  prints  brought  him  to  the 
knowledge  of  Winstanley,  as  a painter,  and  having  sold  to 
General  Henry  Lee  an  original  full-length  of  Washington,  by 
Stuart,  he  sent  it  to  Winstanley  as  understanding  the  best 
mode  of  packing  it,  as  it  was  purchased  for  the  President’s 
house  at  the  seat  of  government.  Winstanley  immediately 
copied  it,  and  sent  the  copy  to  General  Lee,  keeping  the  origi- 
nal ; by  and  from  which  to  manufacture  more  Stuarts,  and 
finally  Mr.  Laing  lost  the  amount  of  the  original  picture. 

Winstanley  painted  portraits,  landscapes — any  thing — and 
in  1801,  this  swindling  genius,  as  appears  by  a puff  direct  in 
Denny’s  Portfolio,  announced  the  publication  of  eight  prints  by 
subscription,  select  views,  to  be  engraved  in  London  from  oil 
paintings  by  Mr.  Winstanley,  “ an  artist  of  genius  and  repu- 
tation, whose  landscapes  in  oil  are  greatly  admired  by  the  con- 
noisseurs.” 


t 


395 


The  first  instructor  of  Miss  Hall . 

It  was  probably  at  this  period  that  he  borrowed  the  five 
hundred  dollars  from  the  Boston  merchant,  and  gave  him  as 
security  an  original  Stuart  painted  by  himself.  This  is  the 
last  notice  I have  of  William  Winstanley. 

S.  KING— 1790. 

This  gentleman,  although  he  painted  portraits  for  many 
years  in  Newport,  Rhode  Island,  might  perhaps  have  escaped 
my  notice,  if  a great  painter  had  not  mentioned  him  as  one 
who  encouraged  the  efforts  of  design  in  his  schooldays.  He 
had  not  that  skill  which  would  entitle  him  to  historical  notice, 
but  if  he  stimulated  in  any  degree  the  genius  of  Allston,  he  de- 
serves immortality.  Fie  was  an  able  and  ingenious  man,  and 
has  contributed  his  mite  to  the  progress  of  American  art,  by 
giving  instruction  to  Washington  Allston,  and  imparting  some 
knowledge  of  the  rudiments  of  the  art  to  Miss  Anne  Hall, 
one  of  our  most  excellent  miniature  painters,  and  a National 
Academician. 

Mr.  King  painted  professionally  in  1790,  and  when  Allston 
returned  an  accomplished  artist  in  1809,  he  had  the  pleasure 
of  reminding  the  good  old  man  of  the  kindness  he  had,  as  a 
child,  received  from  him. 

ARCHIBALD  ROBERTSON— 1791. 

Archibald  Robertson  arrived  at  New-York  on  the  2d  of 
October  1791.  He  was  born  in  the  village  of  Monymusk, 
eighteen  miles  from  Aberdeen,  Scotland,  in  1765.  His  father 
was  an  architect  and  draftsman,  and  practised  the  art  at  that 
place.  Two  brothers,  Alexander  and  Andrew,  are  likewise 
artists,  the  latter  has  long  been,  if  not  the  best,  equal  to  the 
first  miniature-painter  in  the  metropolis  of  Great  Britain. 

Archibald  showed  an  early  disposition  for  the  fine  arts. 
I have  seen  designs  of  Mr.  Robertson’s  for  historical  composi- 
tions which  evince  good  knowledge  of  drawing,  chiara  scura, 
and  expression.  One  from  Shakspeare,  of  Falstaff  and  his 
companions,  has  much  of  these  qualities  and  pleased  me  most. 
Lord  Archibald  Grant  encouraged  his  attempts  at  drawing, 
and  after  he  had  completed  his  education  at  Marshall  college, 
Aberdeen,  Grant  invited  him  to  Edinburgh  to  study  the  arts 
of  design,  and  thither  he  went  in  1782.  At  that  time  there 
w as  no  academy  of  fine  arts  in  that  city,  and  Archibald  associ- 
ated himself  with  Weir  and  Raeburn,  then  like  himself  stu- 
dents of  painting,  to  form  a school  for  mutual  improvement. 
Raeburn  was  about  the  same  age  with  Robertson  and  after- 
wards attained  that  eminence  as  a portrait-painter  which  gained 
him  the  appellation  of  the  Reynolds  cf  Scotland. 


396 


Archibald  Robertson. 


Robertson,  Raeburn,  Watson,  and  Weir  had  as  associates 
some  engravers  of  Edinburgh,  and  they  obtained  permission 
trom  the  manager  of  the  theatre  to  occupy  the  green  room  for 
their  school  on  such  evenings  as  it  was  not  in  use,  which  were 
three  in  the  week.  Runciman,  who  was  the  teacher  of  the 
drawing  school  of  the  college,  lent  them  casts  and  directed 
their  operations.  He  is  well  known  among  painters  for  his 
pictures  from  Ossian  and  other  works,  which  place  him  almost 
on  a level  with  Barry  and  Mortimer,  at  least  in  the  minds  of 
his  countrymen,  who  speak  of  Barry,  Mortimer  and  Runciman 
as  the  pride  of  Ireland,  England  and  Scotland.  The  college 
drawing  school  was  a free  school.  The  associates  studied  from 
the  life,  and  hired  a porter  as  their  model.  It  was  a school  of 
mutual  instruction.  Raeburn  is  well  known  to  fame.  George 
Watson  is  now  his  successor  in  Edinburgh.  He  was  the  }7oung- 
est  of  the  associates.  Before  going  to  Edinburgh  the  young 
painter  had  received  instructions  from  Peacock  in  miniature, 
Nesbit  in  water  colour  drawing,  and  Wales  in  oil. 

Having  passed  two  years  in  Edinburgh  he  returned  to  his 
own  climate  to  restore  his  impaired  health,  which  accomplished, 
after  practising  his  art  in  Aberdeen  and  Edinburgh,  he,  in 
1788,  went  to  London.  He  carried  among  other  letters  one 
to  Sir  Robert  Strange.  The  engraver  was  not  home  when  he 
called,  but  his  w’ife,  a Scotchwoman,  received  her  young  coun- 
tryman very  cordially  and  went  with  him  to  Newman-street  to 
introduce  him  to  Benjamin  West.  The  great  historical  pain- 
ter was  found  at  his  (chevalet  de  peintre)  or  esel,  working 
upon  one  of  the  pictures  commemorative  of  the  order  of  the 
garter.  West  received  the  young  man  with  that  amenity 
which  characterized  him,  and  continued  his  occupation  while 
conversing  with  his  visiter,  as  was  his  wont.  He  asked 
Robertson  what  were  his  views  in  respect  to  the  art.  Whether 
he  intended  to  pursue  historical  or  portrait  painting,  and  being 
informed  that  the  latter  was  his  object  he  recommended  ap- 
plication to  Reynolds,  saying,  “ I seldom  paint  portraits,  and 
when  I do,  I neither  please  myself  nor  my  employers.” 

Robertson  was  delighted  with  the  urbanity  of  the  painter, 
astonished  by  the  facility  and  rapidity  with  which  he  was  ex- 
ecuting the  work  on  his  e'sel,  and  determined  to  follow  his 
advice  by  seeking  an  introduction  to  the  great  portrait-painter. 

To  Sir  Joshua  he  was  introduced  by  Sir  William  Chambers 
the  architect,  and  was  received  as  he  could  wish.  Reynolds 
was  then  the  president  of  the  Royal  Academy  and  pointed  out 
to  him  the  steps  necessary  for  his  introduction  to  that  school  ; 


307 


American  savages  without  pins  or  needles. 

the  first  of  which  is  to  make  a drawing  from  the  plaster  figure 
for  presentation  to  the  counsel  or  keeper.  We  need  not  say 
that  in  Europe  an  academy  is  composed  of  those  who  can 
teach  the  arts  or  sciences  it  is  instituted  to  promote.  Robert- 
son said  he  had  no  plaster  figure  to  draw  from,  and  the  artist 
directed  him  to  choose  one  from  those  in  his  studio  and  make  use 
of  it.  The  young  Scot  chose  the  crouching  Venus  and 
triumphantly  bore  the  goddess  to  his  own  chamber,  eager  to 
devote  himself  to  the  study  of  beauty  and  the  antique . 

His  drawing  gained  him  admission  to  the  schools  of  Somer- 
set House.  He  studied  the  portraits  of  Reynolds  and  copied 
several  of  them  in  miniature.  Returning  to  Scotland  he  ex- 
ercised his  profession  at  Aberdeen  successfully,  until  he  was  so- 
licited by  Dr.  Kemp,  of  Columbia  College,  New  York,  (through 
the  medium  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Gordon  of  Kings  College, 
Aberdeen,)  to  come  and  settle  in  America.  The  advice  of  his 
friends  and  his  own  inclinations  determined  him  to  visit  the 
terra  incognita.  Not  until  he  had  made  up  his  mind  for  this 
voyage  of  discovery  did  he  make  any  inquiries  respecting  the 
country  or  its  inhabitants,  or  indeed  think  any  thing  about  it. 
It  was  a land  of  savages  where  some  Europeans  had  fled  from 
oppression  or  poverty  or  debts,  and  others  had  transported 
Africans,  and  convicted  felons,  in  chains.  The  information 
the  young  painter  received  was  such  as  to  induce  him  to  be- 
lieve that  except  in  the  sea-ports  the  country  was  a wilderness, 
and  the  inhabitants  wild  beasts  and  Indians.  He  thought  him- 
self fortunate  in  meeting  a lady  whose  husband  had  been 
taken  prisoner  with  Burgoyne,  and  had  with  the  captured 
army  been  marched  from  Saratoga  to  Virginia.  She  was 
at  New-York,  doubtless  expecting  to  receive  her  husband 
in  that  British  garrison,  after  he  should  have  marched  in 
triumph  from  Canada,  and  assisted  in  dividing  the  eastern 
states  from  their  brethren  of  the  union.  She  was  disappoint- 
ed; and  now  solicited  and  obtained  permission  to  pass  through 
the  tract  of  country  which  separated  her  from  the  place  of  her 
husband’s  captivity.  She  unwittingly  confirmed  Robertson  in 
the  opinion  that  America  was  a country  of  savages,  for  she 
told  him  that  having  been  fortunate  enough  to  carry  from  the 
city  a large  stock  of  needles  and  pins,  she  found  them  of 
greater  use  to  her  than  money,  they  being  so  eagerly  desired 
by  the  inhabitants  she  encountered  in  the  course  of  her  jour- 
ney. This  would  of  course  remind  the  young  man  of  the 
avidity  with  which  the  savages,  discovered  by  Cooke,  sought 
for  like  articles,  and  even  beads  and  nails,  and  confirmed  him 
in  the  notion  that  all  beyond  the  precincts  of  the  cities  was  a 
land  of  wild  beasts  and  wild  men. 


398 


Arrives  in  America . 


The  reader  will  observe  the  manner  in  which  this  fact,  (the 
avidity  with  which  pins  and  needles  were  sought  for,)  told 
without  explanation,  might  operate.  The  lady  knew  the  cause 
doubtless  of  the  high  price  set  upon  needles  and  pins,  by  the 
people  among  whom  she  journeyed  from  New-York  to  Virgi- 
nia. The  people  of  America  had,  before  the  era  of  their 
emancipation  from  the  bonds  of  a foreign  parliament,  been 
prohibited  the  exercise  of  ingenuity  or  skill  in  most  articles  of 
manufacture,  or  had,  from  the  sparse  nature  of  the  population, 
been  induced  to  depend  upon  Great  Britain  for  the  products 
of  her  manufactories ; and  being,  at  the  time  she  spoke  of,  cut  off 
from  all  foreign  commerce  by  the  armies  and  fleets  ofEngland, 
they  were  literally  put  to  their  shifts  to  make  a shirt,  and  un- 
able, in  some  instances,  to  pin  a garment  except  with  thorns, 
unless  supplied  by  some  visiter  like  herself,  or  by  smugglers 
and  illegal  traffickers  with  New-York  or  other  garrisons  of 
their  enemy.  She  only  reported  the  fact  without  comment  or 
explanatory  facts,  and  the  young  painter  drew  his  own  conclu- 
sions. When  he  arrived  at  New-York  in  1791,  he  expected 
to  find  some  whites,  but  was  utterly  astonished  on  landing  to 
see  the  same  forms  and  complexions  he  had  left  behind  on  the 
other  side  the  Atlantic,  except  here  and  there  the  face  of  an 
African.  It  is  probable  that  he  did  not  see  an  Indian  for 
years  after  his  arrival,  and  then  as  much  of  a raree-show  to  his 
adopted  countrymen  as  to  himself. 

In  the  month  of  December  following  his  arrival  in  the  Uni- 
ted States,  he  went  to  Philadelphia,  then  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment, to  deliver  to  Washington  the  celebrated  box  made  of  the 
wood  of  the  oak  tree  that  sheltered  Wallace  after  the  Battle  of 
Falkirk.  This  token  of  regard  for  the  character  of  the  presi- 
dent, had  been  committed  to  the  charge  of  Mr.  Robertson  by 
his  friend  the  Earl  of  Buchan. 

We  extract  the  following  from  the  Atlantic  Magazine: 

“ Philadelphia,  January  4.  On  Friday  morning  was 
presented  to  the  president  of  the  United  States,  a box, 
elegantly  mounted  with  silver,  and  made  of  the  celebrated 
Oak  Tree  that  sheltered  the  Washington  of  Scotland,  the 
brave  and  patriotic  Sir  William  Wallace,  after  his  defeat  at 
the  battle  of  Falkirk,  in  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  by  Edward  the  First.  This  magnificent  and  truly 
characteristical  present  is  from  the  Earl  of  Buchan,  by  the 
hand  of  Mr.  Archibald  Robertson,  a Scots  gentleman,  and  por- 
trait-painter, who  arrived  in  America  some  months  ago.  The 
box  was  presented  to  Lord  Buchan  by  the  Goldsmith’s  Com- 


The  Wallace  box. 


399 

pany  at  Edinburgh,  from  whom  his  lordship  requested,  and 
obtained  leave,  to  make  it  over  to  a man  whom  he  deemed 
more  deserving  of  it  than  himself,  and  the  only  man  in  the 
world  to  whom  he  thought  it  justly  due.  We  hear  farther, 
that  Lord  Buchan  has,  by  letter,  requested  of  the  president, 
that,  on  the  event  of  his  decease,  he  will  consign  the  box  to  that 
man,  in  this  country,  who  shall  appear,  in  his  judgment,  to 
merit  it  best,  upon  the  same  considerations  that  induced  him 
to  send  it  to  the  present  possessor. 

“The  inscription,  upon  a silver  plate,  on  the  inside  of  the 
lid,  is  as  follows  : — Presented  by  the  goldsmiths  of  Edinburgh, 
to  David  Stuart  Erskine,  Earl  of  Buchan,  with  the  freedom 
of  their  corporation,  by  their  deacon — A.D.  1790. 

“4The  following  is  the  letter  which  accompanied  the  box  that 
was  presented  to  General  George  Washington,  by  Mr.  Robert- 
son, from  Lord  Buchan. 

“ Dryburgh-Abbey,  June  28th,  1791. 

“ Sir — I had  the  honour  to  receive  your  excellency’s  letter 
relating  to  the  advertisement  of  Doctor  Anderson’s  periodical 
publication,  in  the  Gazette  of  the  United  States  : which  atten- 
tion to  my  recommendation  I feel  very  sensibly,  and  return 
you  my  grateful  acknowledgments. 

“ In  the  21st  number  of  that  Literary  Miscellany,  I insert- 
ed a monitory  paper  respecting  America,  which,  I flatter  my- 
self, may,  if  attended  to  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  be 
productive  of  good  consequences. 

“To  use  your  own  emphatic  words,  4 may  that  Almighty 
Being  who  rules  over  the  universe,  wdio  presides  in  the  councils 
of  nations,  and  whose  providential  aid  can  supply  every  human 
defect,’  consecrate  to  the  liberties  and  happiness  of  the  Ame- 
rican people,  a government  instituted  by  themselves  for  public 
and  private  security,  upon  the  basis  of  law  and  equal  admin- 
istration ofjustice,  preserving  to  every  individual  as  much  civil 
and  political  freedom  as  is  consistent  with  the  safety  of  the  na- 
tion : and  may  He  be  pleased  to  continue  your  life  and  strength 
as  long  as  you  can  be  in  any  way  useful  to  your  country  ! 

“ I have  entrusted  this  sheet  inclosed  in  a box  made  of  the 
oak  that  sheltered  our  great  Sir  William  Wallace, # after  the 


* Sir  William  Wallace,  at  first  a private  gentleman,  unsuccessfully  attempted 
a revolution  in  Scotland,  nearly  on  the  same  grounds  with  that  more  recently  ac- 
complished in  America,  to  expel  the  English  and  their  adherents,  who  had 
usurped  the  government.  Having  gained  a victory  over  the  forces  of  Edward 
the  First,  at  Stirling,  he  was  soon  after  attacked  bv  Edward  at  the  head  of  80,000 
foot  and  7000  horse  ; whereas  the  whole  force  of  Sir  William  did  not  exceed 


400 


Introduction  to  the  president . 

battle  of  Falkirk,  to  Mr.  Robertson,  of  Aberdeen,  a painter, 
with  the  hope  of  his  having  the  honour  of  delivering  it  into 
your  hands  ; recommending  him  as  an  able  artist,  seeking  for 
fortune  and  fame  in  the  New  World.  This  box  was  presented 
to  me  by  the  goldsmith’s  company  at  Edinburgh,  to  whom, 
feeling  my  own  unworthiness  to  receive  this  magnificently  sig- 
nificant present,  1 requested  and  obtained  leave  to  make  it 
over  to  the  man  in  the  world  to  whom  T thought  it  most  justly 
due;  into  your  hands  I commit  it,  requesting  of  you  to  pass 
it,  in  the  event  of  your  decease,  to  the  man* *  in  your  own  coun- 
try, who  shall  appear  to  your  judgment  to  merit  it  best,  upon 
the  same  considerations  that  have  induced  me  to  send  it  to 
your  Excellency. 

“ I am,  with  the  highest  esteem,  sir, 

“ Your  Excellency’s  most  obedient 

“ And  obliged  humble  servant, 

“Buchan.” 

“ General  Washington, 

President  of  the  United  States  of  America.”' 

“ P.  S. — I beg  your  Excellency  will  have  the  goodnes  to 
send  me  your  portrait,  that  I may  place  it  among  those  I most 
honour,  and  I would  wish  it  from  the  pencil  of  Mr.  Robertson. 
I beg  leave  to  recommend  him  to  your  countenance,  as  he  has 
been  mentioned  to  me  favourably  by  my  worthy  friend,  Pro- 
fessor Ogilvie,  of  King’s  College,  Aberdeen.” 

Mr.  Robertson  says  that,  although  “ accustomed  to  inti- 
mate intercourse  with  those  of  the  highest  rank  and  station  in 
his  native  country,”  his  embarrassment  on  being  introduced 
“ to  the  American  hero,”  was  so  obvious,  that  Washington  en- 
tered into  familiar  conversation,  with  a view  to  putting  his 
guest  at  his  ease,  and  introduced  him  to  Mrs.  Washington, 
whose  urbanity  and  ceaseless  cheerfulness  fully  accomplished 
the  general’s  intention. 

Previous  to  sitting  for  his  portrait,  in  compliance  with  Lord 
Buchan’s  request,!  the  president  invited  the  artist  to  a family 
dinner,  which  he  thus  describes  in  a memorandum  before  us: 


30,000  foot ; and  the  main  division  of  his  army  was  tampered  with  by  a traitor, 
and  rendered  of  no  use  to  the  patriotic  army.  Not  long  after  the  battle  of  Fal- 
kirk, Sir  William  was  made  prisoner  by  some  of  Edward's  partisans,  carried  to 
England  and  beheaded. 

* The  general,  with  great  wisdom,  has  desired  the  box  to  be  returned  to  his 
lordship  with  this  answer,  “That  it  is  not  for  General  Washington  to  point  out 
the  worthiest  citizen  of  the  United  States.” 

t See  Cunningham’s  character  of  this  noble- man,  as  quoted  by  me  in  this  work, 
p 123. 


401 


Washington  to  Lord  Buchan. 

“ The  dinner  at  three  o’clock  was  plain,  but  suitable  for  a fa- 
mily in  genteel  circumstances.  There  was  nothing  specially 
remarkable  at  the  table,  but  that  the  general  and  Mrs.  Wash- 
ington sat  side  by  side,  he  on  the  right  of  his  lady;  the  gen- 
tlemen on  his  right  hand  and  the  ladies  on  his  left.  It  being 
on  Saturday  the  first  course  was  mostly  of  eastern  cod  and 
fresh  fish.  A few  glasses  of  wine  were  drank  during  dinner, 
with  other  beverage,  the  whole  closed  with  a few  glasses  of 
sparkling  champagne,  in  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour, 
when  the  general  and  Colonel  Lear  retired,  leaving  the  ladies 
in  high  glee  about  Lord  Buchan  and  the  Wallace  box.” 

The  president  sat  to  Mr.  Robertson  for  a miniature,  as  did 
Mrs.  Washington.  From  the  miniature  of  Washington  a larger 
picture  was  painted  by  the  artist  for  Lord  Buchan,  “ in  oil, 
and  of  a size  corresponding  to  those  of  the  collection  of  por- 
traits of  the  most  celebrated  worthies  of  liberal  principles  and 
in  useful  literature,  in  the  possession  of  his  lordship  at  Dry- 
burgh  Abbey,  near  Melross,  on  the  borders  of  Scotland.” 

To  conclude  the  history  of  the  Wallace  box,  we  give  Wash- 
ington’s answer  to  Lord  Buchan,  and  an  extract  from  the 
hero’s  will. 

Philadelphia  May  1,  1792. 

“ My  Lord — I should  have  had  the  honour  of  acknowledg- 
ing sooner  the  receipt  of  your  letter  of  the  28th  of  June  last, 
had  I not  concluded  to  defer  doing  it  till  I could  announce  to 
you  the  transmission  of  my  portrait,  which  has  just  been  finish- 
ed by  Mr.  Robertson,  (of  New-York,)  who  has  also  undertaken 
to  forward  it.  The  manner  of  the  execution  of  it  does  no  dis- 
credit, I am  told,  to  the  artist ; of  whose  skill  favourable  men- 
tion had  been  made  to  me.  I was  farther  induced  to  entrust 
the  execution  to  Mr.  Robertson,  from  his  having  informed  me 
that  he  had  drawn  others  for  your  lordship,  and  knew  the  size 
which  best  suited  your  collection. 

“ I accept,  with  sensibility  and  with  satisfaction,  the  signifi- 
cant present  of  the  box  which  accompanied  your  lordship’s 
letter. 

“ In  yielding  the  tribute  due  from  every  lover  of  mankind  to 
the  patriotic  and  heroic  virtues  of  which  it  is  commemorative, 
I estimate  as  I ought  the  additional  value  which  it  derives  from 
the  hand  that  sent  it,  and  my  obligation  for  the  sentiments  that 
induced  the  transfer. 

“ I will,  however,  ask  that  you  will  exempt  me  from  com- 
pliance with  the  request  relating  to  its  eventual  destination. 

“ In  an  attempt  to  execute  your  wish  in  this  particular,  I 
should  feel  embarrassment  from  a just  comparison  of  relative 

51 


402  Extract  from  Washington's  will. 

pretensions,  and  fear  to  risk  injustice  by  so  marked  a prefer- 
ence. With  sentiments  of  the  truest  esteem  and  consideration, 
I remain  your  lordship’s  most  obedient  servant, 

“ G.  Washington.” 

“ Earl  of  Buchan.” 

Extract  from  the  will : 

“ To  the  Earl  of  Buchan  I re-commit  ‘ The  box  made  of 
the  oak  that  sheltered  the  brave  Sir  William  Wallace  after  the 
Battle  of  Falkirk,’  presented  to  me  by  his  lordship  in  terms  too 
flattering  for  me  to  repeat,  with  a request  * to  pass  it,  on  the 
event  of  my  decease,  to  the  man  in  my  country  who  should 
appear  to  merit  it  best,  upon  the  same  conditions  that  have  in- 
duced him  to  send  it  to  me.’  Whether  easy  or  not  to  select 
the  man  who  might  comport  with  his  lordship’s  opinion  in  this 
respect,  is  not  for  me  to  say  ; but  conceiving  that  no  disposi- 
tion of  this  valuable  curiosity  can  be  more  eligible  than  the  re- 
commitment of  it  to  his  own  cabinet,  agreeably  to  the  original 
design  of  the  Goldsmith’s  Company  of  Edinburgh,  who  pre- 
sented it  to  him,  and,  at  his  request,  consented  that  it  should 
be  transferred  to  me,  I do  give  and  bequeath  the  same  to  his 
lordship  ; and  in  case  of  his  decease,  to  his  heir,  with  my 
grateful  thanks  for  the  distinguished  honour  of  presenting  it 
to  me,  and  more  especially  for  the  favourable  sentiments  with 
which  he  accompanied  it.” 

Mr.  Robertson  sent  his  picture  to  Europe  by  Col.  Lear, 
and  received  the  thanks  of  the  earl  of  Buchan.  From  1792  to 
1821,  Mr.  Robertson  exercised  his  profession  in  New-York, 
and  likewise  taught  drawing  and  painting  in  water  colours. 
He  married  Miss  Abrams,  (an  only  child,  and  understood  to 
be  a fortune,)  and  is  surrounded  by  a numerous  family.  Good 
fortune  and  prudence  going  hand  in  hand,  he  retired  from 
business  at  the  last-mentioned  period. 

In  1802,  he  was  one  who  assisted,  with  his  advice,  in  the 
project  of  forming  an  academy  of  fine  arts,  and  about  the  same 
time  published  an  elementary  book  on  drawing. 

In  1816,  when  a second  attempt  was  made  to  establish  an 
academy  of  the  fine  arts,  and  an  association  was  chartered  un- 
der the  title  of  the  American  Academy,  Mr.  Robertson  was 
elected  a director.  The  association  consisted  principally  of 
lawyers,  merchants,  and  physicians,  with  a few  artists,  and 
Mr.  Trumbull  was  elected  president.  Mr.  Robertson  joined 
with  another  artist  in  recommending  the  establishment  of 
schools,  but  the  president  overruled  the  measure,  and  defeated 
it  by  his  influence  with  the  board  of  directors,  who  being 


403 


Giuseppe  Ceracchi. 

mostly  not  artists,  were  governed  by  his  opinions,  and  the 
institution  became  merely  a society  for  the  exhibition  of  pic- 
tures, and  so  continues  to  this  day. 

Mr.  Robertson  found  oil  painting  injurious  to  his  health, 
and  confined  himself  to  water  colours  and  crayons.  Several 
portraits  of  this  description,  painted  soon  after  his  marriage, 
we  have  seen  with  pleasure ; and  he  had  great  facility  in  the 
management  of  water  colours  on  ivory.  His  exertions  in  his 
profession  advanced  the  arts  of  design,  and  he  is  entitled  to 
the  gratitude  of  the  country  as  one  of  those  who  forwarded 
the  progress  of  the  fine  arts. 

As  an  architect,  though  never  professionally  such,  he  has 
shown  his  skill  on  several  occasions  by  plans  for  public  build- 
ings. He  was  among  those  who  presented  designs  for  the 
city  hall  of  New-York.  Mr.  Robertson  enjoys  health  and 
affluence,  the  reward  of  prudence  and  temperance ; and  at  an 
advanced  age  retains  his  love  for  science  and  the  arts,  united 
to  an  activity  of  body  and  mind,  giving  him  power  to  advance 
their  interests. 


GIUSEPPE  CERACCHI— 1791. 

This  great  sculptor  and  enthusiastic  republican  was  born  at 
Rome  about  the  year  1740.  He  was  employed  by  the  Pope, 
in  conjunction  with  Canova,  in  designing  and  executing 
sculpture  for  the  Pantheon.  Louis  Simond,  in  his  travels  in 
Italy,  speaks  of  the  monumental  busts  of  the  great  artists  of 
Italy,  with  which  the  Pantheon  is  decorated,  as  having  been 
executed  by  “ Canova  and  Ceracchi.” 

He  left  Italy  on  a visit  to  England,  and  arrived  in  London 
in  the  year  1772.  He  was  well  received  by  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds, then  President  of  the  Royal  Academy,  whose  bust  he 
executed  in  marble  with  great  success  and  credit.  He  was 
the  instructor,  in  modelling  and  sculpture,  of  the  Hon.  Anna 
Seymour  Darner  ; who  executed  many  works  in  marble,  of 
sufficient  merit  to  draw  forth  the  praises  of  Horace  Walpole, 
who  compares  her  (and  makes  her  equal)  to  the  authors  of 
the  antique  busts  which  have  come  down  to  us.  Ceracchi  exe- 
cuted  a full-length  figure  of  Mrs.  Darner,  “ as  the  Muse  of 
Sculpture;”  in  which,  says  Walpole,  “he  has  happily  pre- 
served the  graceful  lightness  of  her  form  and  her  air.” 

The  author  of  the  Life  of  Nollekins  says,  (vol.  II.  p.  119. 
London  edition,  1828) — “During  the  time  I was  under  the 
tuition  of  Mr.  Nollekins,  Signor  Giuseppe  Ceracchi,  a Ro- 
man, often  visited  the  studio.  He  came  to  England  in  1773, 


404 


Ceraccki  in  England. 

with  letters  ofrecommendation  from  Nulty,  a sculptor  at  Rome; 
was  employed  by  Carlini  ; and  when  he  first  exhibited  at  the 
Royal  Academy,  his  residence  was  stated  to  be  at  that  artist’s 
house,  in  King-square  court,  now  Carlisle-street,  Soho-square. 

“ Mr.  R.  Adam,  the  architect,  employed  Ceracchi  to  model 
a basso-relievo,  fourteen  feet  in  length  by  six  feet  in  height, 
of  the  Sacrifice  of  Bacchus,  consisting  of  twenty  figures,  in 
Adams’s  composition,— a mixture  of  cement  with  oil,  which 
is  now  called  mastic,  and  similar  to  that  used  on  the  columns 
of  the  Theatre  in  the  Hay-market,  for  the  back  front  of  the 
house  of  Mr.  Desenfans,  in  Portland-road  ; at  whose  decease 
it  was  sold  by  auction  to  the  proprietors  of  Coade’s  artificial 
stone  manufactory,  in  that  part  of  the  New  Road  called  Tot- 
tenham Court  ; and  it  is  very  tastefully  modelled. 

“ The  bust  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  sold  by  the  figure-cas- 
ters, Mr.  Northcote  informs  me,  was  also  modelled  by  Cerac- 
chi. Baretti,  in  his  ‘ Guide  through  the  Royal  Academy,’ 
when  describing  the  Strand-front  of  Somerset  House,  thus 
speaks  of  him  : — ‘ The  two  figures  nearest  the  centre  were 
made  by  Signor  Carlini : the  two  at  the  extremities,  by  Signor 
Ceracchi,  an  Italian  sculptor,  who  resided  some  time  in  Lon- 
don, whose  abilities  the  architect  (Sir  William  Chambers) 
wished  to  encourage  and  keep  among  us  ; but  the  little  em- 
ployment found  in  England  for  sculptors,  however  excellent, 
frustrated  his  intentions.’  Ceracchi  had,  when  I was  taken  to 
see  him,  very  extensive  premises,  at  No.  76,  Margaret-street, 
Cavendish-square.  He  was  a short  thin  man,  with  a piercing 
black  eye,  and  a very  blue  beard.  He  was  the  Hon.  Lady 
Darner’s  master  in  sculpture,  as  that  lady  declared  to  me 
herself.* 

“ Ceracchi,  highly  gifted  as  he  certainly  was,  met  so  little 
encouragement  in  this  country,  that,  after  disposing  of  his 
property  in  Margaret-street,  he  quitted  England  for  Rome  ; 
where  he  continued  to  practise,  as  a sculptor,  until  the  break- 
ing out  of  the  French  Revolution, f when  he  became  so  violent 
a partisan,  and  so  desperate,  that  he  was  condemned  to  death, 
as  the  leader  of  the  conspirators  connected  with  the  infernal 
machine  contrivance;  and  was  guillotined  at  Paris  in  1801. 
— Ceracchi  continued  so  frantic  to  the  last,  that  he  actually 
built  himself  a car,  in  which  he  was  drawn  to  the  place  of  exe- 
cution in  the  habit  of  a Roman  Emperor.  David,  the  French 


* He  modelled  a statue  of  his  pupil,  which,  since  the  decease  of  Lord  Fred. 
Campbell,  has  been  carved  in  marble,  and  placed  in  the  hall  of  the  British  Mu- 
seum. 

i This  is  erroneous,  as  will  be  seen. 


Ceracclii  in  America . 


405 


painter,  with  whom  Ceracchi  had  lived  in  intimacy,  was  called 
to  speak  to  his  character  ; but  he  declared  he  knew  nothing 
of  him  beyond  his  fame  as  a sculptor.” 

An  ardent  lover  of  the  rights  of  man,  Ceracchi  conceived 
the  design  of  erecting  a monument  to  Liberty  in  the  United 
States  of  America,  and  for  this  purpose  crossed  the  Atlantic. 
In  179J  he  arrived  in  Philadelphia,  and  prepared  the  model 
of  a great  work,  designed  to  be  one  hundred  feet  in  height, 
of  statuary  marble,  and  the  cost  was  estimated  at  thirty  thou- 
sand dollars. 

The  Congress,  then  sitting  in  Philadelphia,  did  not  feel 
themselves  authorized  to  expend  the  money  of  their  constitu- 
ents in  erecting  a monument  of  this  description,  and  the  sculp- 
tor was  disappointed  in  respect  to  the  government  encourage- 
ment he  had  relied  upon.  He  had,  in  the  mean  time,  become 
acquainted  with  the  first  men  of  the  United  States,  and  had 
executed  a bust,  in  marble,  representing,  with  truth  and  cha- 
racteristic dignity,  the  likeness  of  that  great  and  good  man, 
Washington.  This  beautiful  piece  of  art  and  faithful  por- 
traiture, which  is  (with  the  exception  of  Gilbert  Stuart’s  ori- 
ginal painting,  now  in  the  Athenaeum  at  Boston)  the  only 
true  portrait  of  our  hero,  was  purchased  of  Ceracchi  by  the 
Spanish  ambassador  for  one  thousand  dollars,  and  sent  to 
Spain,  where  it  having  been  rejected  by  4 the  Prince  of  the 
Peace,’  for  whom  the  ambassador  intended  it  as  a present, 
(but  who  probably  thought  such  a bust  as  little  suited  to  his 
cabinet  as  that  of  Brutus  or  Socrates  would  be)  this  excellent 
piece  of  art  remained  with  the  ambassador,  and  after  his  death, 
with  his  widow  ; of  whom  Richard  Mead,  Esq.  of  Philadel- 
phia, with  true  taste  and  patriotism,  repurchased  it,  for  the 
same  sum  received  by  Ceracchi,  and  sent  it  back  to  its  native 
land. 

General  Washington  not  having  the  power,  except  in  his 
private  capacity,  to  forward  Ceracchi’s  great  plan  of  the 
monument,  but  admiring  the  model,  and  wishing  to  serve  the 
man,  advised  him  to  try  to  obtain  a subscription  by  private 
individuals,  the  amount  of  which  should  cover  the  expense. 
He  accompanied  this  advice  with  a letter  recommending  the 
artist  and  the  intended  monument,  and  placed  his  name  at  the 
commencement  of  the  subscription  list.  I give  the  whole  of 
this  letter  and  plan  in  the  subjoined  note.* 


♦Sir, — Herewith  you  will  receive  the  description  of  a monument  proposed  to 
be  erected  to  the  American  revolution,  and  the  plan  by  which  the  means  for  the 
undertaking  are  to  be  provided. 


406 


Great  monument  to  liberty. 

The  ardent  sculptor  was  too  impatient  to  await  the  success 
of  this  plan  to  raise  the  necessary  fund,  and  returned  poor  and 
disappointed  to  Europe,  in  (I  believe)  1795. 


Those  who  truly  admire  the  great  event  which  established  the  liberty  of  this 
country,  and  who  wish  to  see  the  blessing  cherished  by  all  who  may  be  heirs  to 
it,  will  need  no  exhortation  to  contribute  their  reasonable  aid  to  a work  which  is 
so  well  calculated  to  blend  with  the  glory  of  the  present,  a lesson  to  future 
generations. 

Among  the  means  employed  by  the  wisest  and  most  virtuous  people  for  nour- 
ishing and  perpetuating  the  spirit  of  freedom  and  patriotism,  monumental  repre- 
sentations are  known  to  be  amongst  the  most  ancient,  and  perhaps,  not  the  least 
influential.  And  as  it  is  the  happiness  of  this  country  to  enjoy  an  occasion,  more 
glorious  and  more  auspicious  to  it,  than  has  been  the  lot  of  any  other,  there 
ought  to  be  felt  a pride,  as  well  as  satisfaction,  in  commemorating  it,  by  a spectacle 
as  unrivalled  as  the  occasion  itself.  Should  the  plan,  now  offered,  be  successful, 
this  object  will  be  fully  attained  ; for  it  may,  without  hazard,  be  affirmed,  that 
no  similar  work  of  equal  magnitude  and  merit,  can  be  boasted  by  the  nations 
most  distinguished  for  their  munificent  zeal  in  rendering  the  fine  arts  auxiliaries 
to  the  cause  of  liberty. 

Although  it  was  deemed  proper  to  provide  for  an  eventual  assumption  of  the 
monument  and  the  expense  by  the  government  of  the  United  States  ; yet  it  was 
necessary,  both  as  an  immediate  and  a certain  resource,  to  appeal  to  the  patri- 
otic liberality  of  individuals.  In  one  view  it  may  be  particularly  desirable  that 
the  monument  should  be  founded  on  voluntary  and  diffusive  contributions.  The 
event  to  which  it  is  dedicated,  the  emblems  of  which  it  is  composed,  and  the 
effect  which  it  is  meant  to  produce,  have  all  an  intimate  relation  to  the  rights 
and  happiness  of  the  people.  Let  it  be  commenced  then,  not  through  the  organ 
of  the  government  as  a political  act,  but  in  a mode  which  will  best  testify  the 
sentiments  which  spontaneously  glow  in  the  breasts  of  republican  citizens. 

The  artist  contemplated  for  the  work  is  Mr.  Ceracchi,  of  Rome ; who,  influ- 
enced by  admiration  for  the  revolution,  and  by  a desire  of  distinguishing  himself 
as  the  instrument  of  erecting  a monument  worthy  of  so  great  a subject,  came  to 
the  city  of  Philadelphia  in  1791,  with  a design  to  prosecute  the  undertaking,  if 
sufficient  means  could  be  found.  Since  that  period  he  has  prepared  the  model, 
of  which  the  description  is  annexed.  The  model  of  itself  evinces  the  capacity, 
genius  and  taste  of  the  author,  and  concurs  with  other  proofs  of  his  distinguished 
qualifications,  to  inspire  a wish  that  he  could  be  enabled  to  execute  his  plan. 
The  material  of  the  monument  is  to  be  statuary  marble  ; its  height  one  hundred 
feet ; its  circumference  three  hundred  feet ; the  height  of  the  principal  figure 
fifteen  feet,  and  the  others  of  various  proportional  dimensions.  It  is  computed 
that  ten  years  will  be  required  to  complete  it. 

A hope  is  entertained  that  the  public  spirit  of  the  citizens  of  the  United  States, 
seconded  by  a taste  for  the  fine  arts,  will  induce  them  not  to  suffer  to  escape  so 
fair  an  opportunity  of  raising  a lasting  monument  to  the  glory  of  their  country  ; 
and  that  a sufficient  number  will  be  found  ready  to  furnish,  by  subscriptions,  the 
necessary  sums.  The  confidence  which  is  placed  in  your  personal  disposition  to 
forward  the  commendable  design,  has  pointed  you  out,  among  a few  others,  for 
soliciting  and  receiving  the  subscriptions,  and  is  the  apology  for  imposing  the 
task  upon  you. 

A description  of  the  monument  consecrated  to  liberty: 

The  goddess  of  liberty  is  represented  descending  in  a car  drawn  by  four 
horses,  darting  through  a volume  of  clouds,  which  conceals  the  summit  of  a rain- 
bow. Her  form  is  at  once  expressive  of  dignity  and  grace.  In  her  right  hand 
she  brandishes  a flaming  dart,  which,  by  dispelling  the  mists  of  Error,  illuminates 
the  universe ; her  left  is  extended  in  the  attitude  of  calling  upon  the  people  of 
America  to  listen  to  her  voice.  A simple  pileus  covers  her  head  ; her  hair  plays 
unconfined  over  her  shoulders ; her  bent  brow  expresses  the  energy  of  her  cha- 


407 


CeraccMs  busts  of  distinguished  men . 

During  the  time  Ceracchi  remained  in  this  country,  he 
modelled  and  chisseled  many  busts  of  distinguished  gentle- 
men connected  with  the  revolution,  some  of  which  I can  par- 


racter ; her  lips  Appear  partly  open,  whilst  her  awful  voice  echoes  through  the 
vault  of  heaven,  in  favour  of  the  rights  of  man.  Her  drapery  is  simple  ; she  is 
attired  in  an  ancient  chlamys,  one  end  of  which  is  confined  under  her  zone,  the 
rest  floats  carelessly  in  the  wind  ; the  cothurnus  covers  her  feet. 

Saturn  is  her  charioteer,  emblematical  of  the  return  of  the  golden  age  ; he 
has  just  checked  the  horses,  upon  his  arrival  on  the  American  shore.  Immedi- 
ately as  the  car  lights  upon  the  summit  of  a lofty  rock,  various  groups  are  seen 
issuing  from  compartments  at  its  base,  to  hail  the  descent  of  the  goddess,  by 
whose  beneficent  influence  they  are  at  once  animated  into  exertion. 

The  first  compartment  is  consecrated  to  poetry  and  history.  Apollo,  attired 
in  the  characteristic  dress  of  that  deity,  is  seated  with  his  lyre  in  his  hand,  and 
his  countenance  glowing  with  the  sublimity  of  his  song.  Clio  is  employed  in 
recording  the  hymns  with  which  Apollo  salutes  the  arrival  of  the  goddess  of 
freedom;  while  the  independent  states,  which  are  blessed  by  their  influence, 
appear  upon  a globe  which  is  placed  beside  her. 

In  the  second  compartment,  Philosophy,  without  whose  assistance  liberty  would 
soon  be  obscured  by  ignorance,  is  represented  as  presiding  at  this  memorable 
epoch.  He  appears  in  the  character  of  a venerable  sage,  with  a grave  and 
majestic  aspect.  On  his  head  he  wears  the  modius , an  ornament  given  to 
Jupiter  by  the  Egyptians,  as  a symbol  of  perfect  wisdom.  The  fasces  are  in  his 
hand.  He  is  seated,  dressed  in  the  consular  habit,  and  leaning  upon  the  altar  of 
Justice.  As  the  inflexible  friend  of  Truth,  he  is  seen  tearing  off  from  a female 
figure,  who  stands  near  him  in  the  character  of  Policy,  the  false  veil  which  has 
so  long  concealed  the  science  of  government.  Anxiety  appears  painted  on  the 
countenance  of  Policy ; her  head  is  shaded  by  a small  pair  of  wings  ; her  right 
arm  supports  a roll  of  geographical  charts  ; and  a robe  of  exquisite  thinness, 
gives  an  additional  appearance  of  velocity  to  her  motion.  The  gigantic  figure 
below  (designed  to  represent  National  Valor)  rises  at  the  voice  of  Liberty  to 
combat  the  oppressors  of  his  country.  He  eagerly  seizes  on  his  arms,  which  lie 
near  him,  and  prepares  to  abandon  the  tranquil  occupations  of  agriculture  for  the 
hazards  and  tumults  of  war.  His  form  is  muscular  and  robust ; his  mantle  is 
thrown  carelessly  over  him  ; the  disorder  of  his  hair,  and  the  fierceness  of  his 
countenance  inspire  Despotism  with  terror. 

The  adjoining  group  represents  Neptune  seated  between  two  rivers  ; he 
appears  exhorting  Mercury  (who  stands  near  him)  to  take  American  commerce 
under  his  protection,  and  to  increase  the  glory  of  the  American  flag. 

At  the  powerful  voice  of  liberty  nature,  whose  simplicity  had  been  forced  to 
give  way  to  the  introduction  of  the  meretricious  refinements  of  art,  appears  start- 
ing to  life,  burst  from  the  bosom  of  the  earth,  and  seems  about  to  resume  her  an- 
cient dignity.  A dewy  mantle,  studded  with  stars,  is  supported  by  her  right 
hand  ; with  her  left  she  is  employed  in  expressing  streams  of  water  from  her  flow- 
ing ringlets,  allegorically  emblematic  of  the  source  of  rivers. 

The  last  group  represents  Minerva,  the  patroness  of  the  arts  and  sciences.  In 
order  to  designate  the  country  to  which  they  owe  their  origin,  she  is  seated  on 
a fragment  of  an  Egyption  obelisk,  and  holds  the  papyrus  in  her  left  hand.  Near 
her  stands  Genius,  with  a flambeau  in  one  hand,  and  a butterfly,  the  emblem  of 
immortality,  in  the  other — expressive  of  the  grand  principles  of  fire  and  animation. 
His  countenance  is  fixed  in  an  attitude  of  silent  attention,  whilst  the  goddess 
commands  him  to  inspire,  with  his  divine  influence,  the  bosom  of  the  children  of 
Freedom.  Behind,  is  a figure  designed  to  represent  Fame,  with  her  appropriate 
emblem.  A pair  of  ample  pinions  shades  her  shoulders;  she  holds  her  trumpet 
in  her  left  hand  ; and,  with  her  right,  points  to  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
which  is  inscribed  upon  a massy  column. 


408  Articles  of  subscription  for  erecting  the  monument . 

ticularize ; and  first  the  admirable  marble  bust  of  Hamilton, 
in  the  possession  of  that  great  man’s  family — the  bust  of  Jef- 
ferson, deposited  at  Monticello — that  of  George  Clinton,  the 
revolutionary  governor  of  New-York — another  of  Egbert 
Benson — one  in  terra  cotta  of  Paul  Jones,  and  another  of 
John  Jay.  The  artist  took  to  Paris,  with  the  model  of  the 
intended  monument,  many  other  models  in  clay — some  of  dis- 
tinguished men — but  in  his  wreck  all  have  been  lost,  and  no 
trace  of  them  remains.  This  unfortunate,  or  imprudent  and 


Articles  of  subscription  towards  erecting  a monument  to  the  American  revolution . 

I.  Thirty  dollars  to  be  the  amount  of  subscription  for  one  year. 

II.  Each  person,  at  discretion,  to  subscribe  for  one  year,  or  for  any  greater 
number  of  years,  not  exceeding  ten. 

III.  Where  the  subscription  of  any  person  shall  be  for  one  year,  the  whole  sum 
to  be  immediately  paid  ; where  it  shall  be  for  more  than  one  year,  the  amount  of 
one  year’s  subscription  to  be  immediately  paid ; and  an  equal  sum  on  the  first 
Monday  in  January  in  each  succeeding  year,  during  the  term  for  which  the  sub- 
scription shall  be  made  ; unless  the  subscriber  shall  prefer  to  make  greater  or 
earlier  payments. 

IV.  The  monies  subscribed  and  paid  shall  be  deposited  in  the  Bank  of  the 
United  States,  to  the  credit  of  “ The  subscribers  towards  erecting  a monument 
to  the  American  revolution,”  and  shall  be  subject  to  the  disposition  of  the  secre- 
taries of  state,  of  the  treasury,  and  of  war,  the  attorney-general,  and  the  treasurer 
of  the  United  States,  for  the  time  being;  who,  or  any  three  of  whom,  being  met 
together,  are  hereby  empowered,  by  majority  of  voices  of  those  met,  to  apply  the 
said  monies  to  the  purpose  of  erecting  the  said  monument,  in  such  manner  as 
shall  appear  to  them  proper. 

V.  The  work  shall  not  be  begun  until  the  sum  of  thirty  thousand  dollars  shall 
have  been  subscribed  and  paid  ; and  in  case  it  should  happen  that  the  said  sum 
should  not  be  subscribed  in  one  year  from  the  date  thereof,  the  monies  which 
shall  have  been  subscribed  and  paid  shall  revert  to  the  subscribers,  whom  the 
said  managers  shall  cause  to  be  reimbursed. 

VI.  Subscriptions  may  be  received  by  and  paid  to  any  person  who  may  have  a 
copy  of  this  paper,  certified  by  the  managers  and  persons  named  in  the  fourth 
article. 

VII.  The  United  States  may,  at  any  time  within  six  calendar  months  after 
the  monument  shall  be  completed,  become  proprietors  thereof,  or,  at  any  time 
sooner,  may  become  proprietors  of  so  much  thereof  as  shall  have  been  executed 
by  making  effectual  provision  for  reimbursing  the  subscribers,  or  their  lawful  re- 
presentatives, the  sums  which  shall  have  been  advanced  by  them,  towards  car- 
rying on  the  work. 

VIII.  The  monument  shall  be  erected  or  placed  at  the  permanent  seat  of  the 
government  of  the  United  States. 

IX.  The  said  managers,  if  they  shall  judge  it  necessary,  may  convene  the  sub- 
scribers, (giving  six  months  notice  of  the  time  and  place  of  meeting,  in  one  or 
more  gazettes  or  newspapers,)  who  may  convene  in  person,  or  by  proxy,  or  attor- 
ney, and  shall  be  entitled  each  to  one  vote  for  each  yearly  subscription,  which  he 
or  s.he  shall  have  subscribed  and  paid. 

X.  Those  whose  names  are  subscribed  hereto,  severally  engage  to  pay,  ac- 
cording to  the  tenor  of  the  third  article  hereof,  thirty  dollars  for  each  year  of  the 
number  of  years  set  against  their  respective  names. 

Dated,  this  fourteenth  day  of  February,  in  the  year  one  thousand  seven  hun- 
dred and  ninety-five. 

With  great  consideration  we  are,  sir,  your  very  obedient  servants. 

Philadelphia , February  14,  1795, 


409 


Anecdote  told  by  Doctor  Hosack. 

misled  man  of  talents,  when  oppressed  by  poverty,  and  disap- 
pointed in  his  hopes  of  assistance  from  the  government  .of  the 
United  States,  or  of  adequate  employment  from  our  citizens, 
made  several  unjustifiable  efforts  to  relieve  himself  from  pecu- 
niary embarrassment.  He  requested  sittings  from  distinguished 
individuals,  who,  thinking  to  do  him  service,  sacrificed  their 
time  to  what  they  thought  his  wish  to  possess  their  portraits, 
and  he,  having  finished  their  busts  in  marble,  demanded  large 
sums,  as  though  he  had  been  employed,  or  the  work  ordered. 
In  this  manner  it  is  said  that  Alexander  Hamilton’s  invaluable 
likeness  was  executed,  and  that  eminent  statesman  and  soldier 
yielded  to  the  unexpected  demand. 

I find,  in  Dr.  Hosack’s  “ Medical  Essays,”  an  account  of 
another  attempt  of  this  nature  recorded.  In  vol.  1st,  p.  202, 
the  doctor,  in  a biographical  memoir  of  Hugh  Williamson, 
M.  D.,  says  : — 

“ Joseph  Ceracchi,  an  Italian  statuary  of  great  celebrity  in 
his  profession,  finding  the  turbulent  state  of  Europe  unfavour- 
abe  to  the  exercise  of  his  art,  had  come  to  this  country. 
This  gentleman  exercised  his  talents  in  erecting  honorary 
memorials  of  some  of  our  most  distinguished  public  men. 

“ He,  at  that  time  also,  as  appears  by  a correspondence  in 
my  possession,  applied  to  Dr.  Williamson,  then  a member  of 
congress,  for  permission  to  perpetuate  in  marble,  the  bust 
of  the  American  Cato , as  Mr.  Ceracchi  was  pleased  to  deno- 
minate him.  I beg  leave  to  read  the  originals  : 

“ Mr.  Ceracchi  requests  the  favour  of  Mr.  Williamson  to  sit 
for  his  bust,  not  on  account  of  getting  Mr.  Williamson’s  influ- 
ence in  favour  of  the  National  Monument ; this  is  a subject 
too  worthy  to  be  recommended  ; but  merely  on  account  of 
his  distinguished  character — that  will  produce  honour  to  the 
artist,  and  may  give  to  posterity  the  expressive  features  of  the 
American  Cato.” 

“To  this  note  Dr.  Williamson  replied  in  his  appropriate 
caustic  style  : 

“ Mr.  Hugh  Williamson  is  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Ceracchi 
for  the  polite  offer  of  taking  his  bust.  Mr.  Williamson  could 
not  possibly  suppose  that  Mr.  Ceracchi  had  offered  such  a 
compliment  by  way  of  a bribe  ; for  the  man  in  his  public  sta- 
tion who  could  accept  of  a bribe,  or  betray  his  trust,  ought 
never  to  have  his  likeness  made,  except  from  a block  of  wood. 

“ Mr.  Williamson,  in  the  mean  time,  cannot  avail  himself  of 
Mr.  Ceracchi’s  services,  as  he  believes  that  posterity  will  not 
be  solicitous  to  know  what  were  the  features  of  his  face.  He 
hopes,  nevertheless,  for  the  sake  of  his  children,  that  posterity 

52 


410  Conspiracy  to  murder  Bonaparte. 

will  do  him  the  jnstice  to  believe  that  his  conduct  was  upright, 
and  that  he  was  uniformly  influenced  by  a regard  to  the  hap- 
piness of  his  fellow-citizens,  and  those  who  shall  come  after 
them.” 

Ceracchi  became  a citizen  of  the  French  republic,  and  not 
brooking  Bonaparte’s  successful  schemes  for  the  overthrow  of 
all  liberty,  and  establishment  of  his  despotism,  the  sculptor 
entered  into  a conspiracy  for  the  destruction  of  the  First  Con- 
sul, before  he  should  have  rivetted  the  chains  already  forged 
for  the  nation. 

It  has  been  repeatedly  asserted  that  he  was  concerned  in  the 
infamous  attempt  to  murder  by  the  justly  denominated  infernal 
machine,  but  it  was  not  so.  He  had  entered  into  a conspiracy 
with  Georges  and  others,  and  he  was  either  to  assassinate  the 
tyrant  when  sitting  to  him  for  his  bust,  or  to  aid  others  in  do- 
ing it.  So  far  had  he  been  deceived  and  blinded  by  his  fierce 
passion  for  what  he  justly  considered  the  prime  blessing  of 
man,  political  liberty,  that  he  had  persuaded  himself  that  it 
was  justifiable,  or  meritorious,  to  become  a deceiver,  a traitor, 
and  a murderer,  even  in  the  sanctuary  of  his  own  apartment. 

One  account  of  this  nefarious  affair  states,  that  Ceracchi  had 
apartments  in  the  opera  house,  where  he  received  his  sitters 
and  executed  his  statuary,  and  that  in  this  place  the  murder 
was  to  have  been  committed  ; but  the  plot  being  discovered, 
the  artist  was  tried,  convicted,  avowed  his  intention,  and  justi- 
fied it  to  the  hearers  as  he  had  justified  it  to  himself,  and  was 
sentenced  to  death,  but  was  not  guillotined  or  publicly  exe- 
cuted, but  removed  to  some  bastile,  where  he  ended  life  in 
oblivion — when  or  where  it  is  not  said. 

Madame  Junot  gives  another  version  of  the  conspiracy  to 
assassinate  Bonaparte ; and  I insert,  from  her  memoirs,  the 
passages  relative  to  this  extraordinary  affair,  and  misled  man. 
Junot,  at  that  time  commandant  of  Paris,  had  endeavoured  to 
persuade  his  wife  and  her  mother  not  to  go  to  the  opera  on 
the  11th  of  October,  he  knowing  that  the  first  consul  was  to 
be  there,  and  that  the  conspirators  intended  there  to  murder 
him.  The  ladies,  however,  persisted  in  going,  of  course  not 
knowing  Junot’ s motives,  which  he  would  not  divulge.  Junot 
left  them. 

“ When  he  returned  to  the  box,  his  countenance,  which  all 
day  had  been  serious,  and  even  melancholy,  had  resumed  in  a 
moment  its  gaiety  and  openness,  relieved  of  all  the  clouds 
which  had  veiled  it.  He  leaned  towards  my  mother  and  said, 
very  low,  not  to  be  heard  in  the  next  box,  4 Look  at  the  first 
consul,  remark  him  well.’ 


Ceracchi  arrested . 


411 


“ ‘ Why  would  you  have  me  affect  to  fix  my  eyes  on  him  ?’ 
said  my  mother,  ‘ it  would  be  ridiculous.’ 

“ ‘ No,  no,  it  is  quite  natural.  Look  at  him  with  your 
glass  ; then  I will  ask  the  same  favour  from  Mademoiselle  Lau- 
rette.’  I took  the  opera  glass  from  my  brother,  and  looked  at 
him  in  my  turn. 

“ ‘ Well,’  said  the  general,  ‘ what  do  you  observe?’ 
“‘Truly,’  1 replied,  ‘I  have  seen  an  admirable  counte- 
nance ; for  I can  conceive  nothing  superior  to  the  strength  in 
repose,  and  greatness  in  quiescence,  which  it  indicates.’ 

“ ‘You  find  its  expression,  then,  calm  and  tranquil?’ 

“ ‘ Perfectly.  But  why  do  you  ask  the  question?’  said  I, 
much  astonished  at  the  tone  of  emotion  with  which  the  gene- 
ral had  put  the  question. 

“ He  had  no  time  to  answer  : one  of  the  aids-de-camp 
came  to  the  little  window  of  the  box  to  call  him  out.  This 
time  he  was  absent  longer ; and  on  his  return  wore  an  air  of 
joy : his  eyes  were  directed  towards  the  box  of  the  first  con- 
sul, with  an  expression  which  I could  not  understand.  The 
first  consul  was  then  buttoning  on  the  gray  coat  which  he 
wore  over  the  uniform  of  the  guards,  the  dress  which  he  then 
always  wore,  and  was  preparing  to  leave  the  box.  As  soon 
as  this  was  perceived,  the  acclamations  were  renewed,  as  ve- 
hemently as  on  his  entrance.  At  this  moment  Junot,  no 
longer  able  to  conquer  his  emotion,  leaned  upon  the  back  of 
my  chair,  and  burst  into  tears.  ‘ Calm  yourself,’  said  I,  lean- 
ing towards  him  to  conceal  him  from  my  mother,  who  would 
certainly  have  exercised  her  wit  upon  the  subject  : ‘ calm 
yourself,  I entreat  you.  How  can  a sentiment  altogether 
joyful  produce  such  an  effect  upon  you?’  ‘ Ah  !’  replied  Junot, 
quite  low,  but  with  an  expression  I shall  never  forget,  ‘ he 
has  narrowly  escaped  death  ! the  assassins  are  this  moment 
arrested.’  ” 

After  their  return  home,  Junot  informs  his  wife’s  mother 
“ that  Ceracchi  and  Arena,  the  one  actuated  by  republican 
fanaticism,  the  other  by  vengeance,  had  taken  measures  to 
assassinate  Bonaparte. 

“ We  have  yet  only  taken  Ceracchi,  Arena,  and  I believe 
Demerville.  They  are  just  taken,  but  they  were  not  the  only 
conspirators.” 

Junot  gives  the  following  account  of  a scene  between  him- 
self and  Fouche  on  the  subject: — 

“And  what  do  you  think  he  said  upon  this  resolution  of 
the  first  consul  to  go  to  the  opera  ? He  blamed  him  as  I did  ; 
but  what  was  the  motive  ? ‘ Because,’  says  he,  ‘ it  is  an  am- 


412 


Ceracchi  buying  a poiriard. 

bush  !’  You  suppose,  no  doubt,  that  this  deprecated  ambush 
was  for  the  first  consul  f No  such  thing  ; it  was  for  those  honest 
rascals,  whose  necks  I would  wring  as  willingly  as  a spar- 
row’s, and  with  no  more"  scruple,  after  what  l have  learned  of 
them  and  the  honourable  functions  which  I find  them  exercis- 
ing. He  made  an  oration,  which,  I believe,  was  taken  from 
his  collection  of  homilies  ; by  which  he  proposed  to  prove, 
that  affair  might  be  prevented  going  to  this  length.  As  I had 
already  had  a very  warm  discussion,  upon  the  same  subject, 
with  a personage  whom  the  First  Consul  will  know,  I hope, 
some  day  for  what  he  is,  (and  the  time  is  happily  not  far  dis- 
tant) and  as  I know  that  this  personage  and  Fouche  had  been 
emulating  each  other  in  their  interference  in  this  affair,  I was 
desirous  that  my  w ay  of  thinking  should  be  equally  known  to 
both  of  them.  I therefore  constrained  Fouche  to  explain  him- 
self clearly,  and  to  tell  me  that  it  was  wrong  to  lead  on  these 
men  to  the  moment  of  executing  their  design,  since  it  could 
be  prevented.  That  was  his  opinion. 

“And  thus,”  said  I,  “ you  would  replace  in  society  those 
who  have  evidently  conspired  against  the  chief  of  the  state  ; 
and  that  not  to  force  him  to  resign  his  authority,  not  to  re- 
move him  from  it,  but  to  murder  him — and  to  murder  him  for 
the  satisfaction  of  their  own  passions.  Do  you  believe  that 
Ceracchi — content  to  die,  if,  in  sacrificing  himself,  he  can  kill 
the  First  Consul — putting  him  to  death  to  glut  an  inordinate 
passion,  in  obedience  to  a species  of  monomania— do  you  be- 
lieve this  madman  wall  be  cured  by  a simple  admonition,  or 
by  an  act  of  generosity  ? No  : he  must  kill  this  man,  whom 
he  looks  upon  as  a tyrant,  and  whom  he  will  never  be  induced 
to  see  in  any  other  light.  Or  do  you  believe  that  Arena,  du- 
ring so  many  years  the  enemy  of  General  Bonaparte,  will  ab- 
jure his  hatred  against  the  First  Consul,  because  the  latter  has 
taken  up  the  character  of  Augustus  ? No  : It  is  his  death  they 
desire.  Listen  to  the  expression  of  Ceracchi,  in  buying  a 
poniard  : ‘ I should  like  a knife  better  : the  blade  is  solid 
and  sure,  and  does  not  foul  the  hand.’  To  leave  a deter- 
mined assassin  like  this  to  his  blood-thirsty  contrivances,  what 
is  it  but  to  insure  to-morrow  the  full  execution  of  the  project 
you  have  averted  to-day. 

“ This  is  not  my  first  knowledge  of  the  Arenas.  The  First 
Consul,  who  is  thoroughly  good-hearted,  is  willing  to  forget  the 
evil  they  have  always  been  forward  to  do  him  ; but  I have  not 
so  forgiving  a soul.  I remember  his  arrest  in  the  south  : I 
have  heard  the  particulars  of  the  18th  Brumaire,  and  I am 
completely  acquainted  with  the  circumstances  of  the  present 


413 


Imperfect  account  of  the  conspiracy. 

affair.  Certainly  I tremble  to  see  the  First  Consul  go  to 
face  the  death  which,  notwithstanding  all  our  cares,  he  might 
encounter  : but,  on  the  other  hand,  I saw7  but  this  means  of 
cutting  through  the  net  they  had  cast  around  him.  His  existence 
would  be  rendered  miserable,  supposing  it  was  preserved. — 
There  would  be  daily  new  conspiracies — a hydra,  constantly 
reviving.  When  Fouche,”  continued  Junot,  “ found  that  I 
saw  through  him,  notwithstanding  his  cunning,  he  had  re- 
course to  the  sentiments  of  humanity.  He!  Foucee  ! he  ha- 
rangued me  in  the  style  of  a homily  : and  all  this  w ith  that 
head  that  one  would  have  supposed  he  had  stolen  from  a skel- 
eton. Oh  ! what  a man  ! And  the  First  Consul  will  place 
faith  in  his  words  ! At  length  we  shall  see  the  conclusion  of 
this  affair,  which  he  and  another  called  child’s  play — reason 
in  all  things.” 

“ With  respect  to  Ceracchi,  nothing  you  could  say  of  him 
would  surprise  me.  Permon,  who  knew  him  in  Italy,  intro- 
duced him  to  me  at  a ball  at  M.  Delanoue’s.  Since  then  I 
have  sometimes  seen  him  at  Madame  Magimelli’s,  at  Anteuil. 

1 acknowledge  his  exaggerated  notions  have  made  me  tremble  ; 
while  his  distaste  of  life,  and  his  profound  melancholy,  made 
him  interesting.  Albert  observed  that  his  heart  must  have 
been  profoundly  wounded  by  the  injuries  with  which  he 
imagined  Italy  had  to  reproach  Bonaparte:  ‘For  I have 
seen  him,’  said  he,  ‘ wreep  with  enthusiasm  in  only  speaking 
of  him.’  And  when  he  was  required  to  model  his  bust,  or 
rather,  when  he  himself  requested  permission  to  execute  it,  he 
was  so  much  affected  in  delineating  the  traits  of  him  w hom  he 
believed  destined  to  regenerate  the  world,  that  I have  heard 
it  asserted  by  persons  who  knew  the  fact,  that  he  was  com- 
pelled to  abandon  the  task.  This  man  had  a soul  of  fire!” 
Madame  Junot  says  : — 

“ I had  also  seen  this  Ceracchi,  and  witnessed  some  of  his 
ebullitions  of  enthusiastic  republicanism  at  Madame  Magi- 
melli’s  ; and  I confess  he  had  not  produced  upon  my  mind  the 
same  disagreeable  impressions  that  he  had  upon  my  mother’s. 

I pitied  him  warmly,  for  it  was  impossible  not  to  perceive  that 
his  excessive  sensibility  must  render  him  miserable.” 

Lucien  Bonaparte  is  reported  to  have  said,  “ How  can 
such  strokes  be  averted  ? Jaques,  Clement,  Ravillac,  Damien, 
Jean  Chatel — all  these  men  executed  their  projects  ; because, 
in  forming  them,  they  held  their  own  lives  for  nothing.  If 
Ceracchi  had  been  alone,  as  was  his  original  intention,  my 
brother  had  been  no  more.  But  lie  thought,  by  taking  asso- 
ciates, to  make  his  success  more  certain.  He  deceived  him- 
self.” This  is  all  I can  find  respecting  Ceracchi. 


414 


Benjamin  Trott. 

BENJAMIN  TROTT— 1791. 

Mr.  Trott  is  one  of  the  few  artists  who  have  shrunk  from 
rendering  me  that  assistance  which  even  a few  dates  would 
give  in  raising,  what  I hope  and  believe  will  be,  a monument 
to  the  arts  of  America.  I give  my  own  knowledge,  and  such 
as  flows  incidentally  from  the  communications  of  artists,  who 
have  not  hesitated  to  furnish  me  with  materials  and  help  to 
put  them  together. 

Trott  commenced  his  career,  as  a portrait  painter  in  minia- 
ture, about  the  year  1791  ; which  will  allow  us  to  guess  that 
he  was  born  not  far  from  1770.  In  1793  he  painted  a good 
miniature  head,  and  practised  successfully  in  New  York  when 
Gilbert  Stuart  arrived  there  from  Dublin,  in  company  with 
Walter  Robertson.  Walter  Robertson  was  a native  of  Ire- 
land ; and  I believe  Trott  first  saw  the  light  in  or  about  Bos- 
ton. Robertson’s  style  was  very  singular  and  altogether  arti- 
ficial ; all  ages  and  complexions  were  of  the  same  hue — and 
yet  there  was  a charm  in  his  colouring  that  pleased,  in  despite 
of  taste.  Trott’s  manner  was  more  in  the  old  way  and  more 
natural.  Robertson  was  employed  very  much  in  copying 
Stuart’s  portraits  ; and  with  his  colouring,  and  Stuart’s  cha- 
racteristic likenesses,  he  was  at  the  pinnacle  of  fame  for  a time. 
Stuart  did  not  like  that  another,  with  another  set  of  colours, 
should  be  mounted  above  him,  on  his  own  shoulders ; and  for 
that  reason,  and  the  more  natural  colouring  of  Trott,  preferred 
the  latter,  assisted  him  by  advice,  and  recommended  him. — 
Trott’s  blunt  and  caustic  manner  was  probably  to  Stuart’s 
taste. 

Notwithstanding  Stuart’s  approbation,  Trott  longed  to  be 
able  to  imitate  the  colouring  of  Walter  Robertson ; and  I re- 
member to  have  seen  in  his  possession  one  of  the  Irishman’s 
miniatures,  half  obliterated  by  the  Yankee’s  experiments,  who, 
to  dive  into  the  secret,  made  his  way  beneath  the  surface  like 
a mole,  and  in  equal  darkness. 

He  followed  or  accompanied  Stuart  when  he  removed  from 
New-York  to  Philadelphia  ; and  that  city  was  his  head  quar 
ters  for  a great  many  years.  His  copies  on  ivory,  with  water 
colours,  from  Stuart’s  oil  portraits,  were  good — one  from  the 
Washington,  extremely  beautiful  and  true. 

Who  Trott’s  early  instructors  were,  or  whether  he  had  any 
instructors,  other  than  such  as  pictures  and  occasional  contact 
with  painters  afforded,  I know  not.  He  certainly  had  attain- 
ed a great  portion  of  skill  before  he  made  his  appearance  in 
New-York.  A well  painted  miniature  is  to  me  a source  of 


415 


Trott  in  search  of  secrets. 

delight,  and  some  of  Mr.  Trott’ s are  of  great  beauty.  I speak 
of  the  miniatures  of  the  painter  in  his  best  days — for  the  days 
of  decay  generally  attend  the  artist  as  well  as  his  w ork. 

In  1805  Mr.  Trott  visited  the  western  world  beyond  the 
mountains,  travelling  generally  on  horseback,  with  the  imple- 
ments of  his  art  in  his  saddle-bags.  This  was  a lucrative 
journey.  He  returned  to  Philadelphia  in  1806,  at  w hich  time 
I was  there  with  my  friend  Charles  Brockden  Brown  ; and  I 
became  somewhat  intimate  with  Trott,  and  pleased  with  the 
pungency  of  his  remarks  and  amused  by  the  eccentricity  of 
his  manners.  At  this  time  his  reputation  was  at  its  height, 
and  he  might  have  commanded  more  employment  than  he  did, 
but  he  was  visited  by  a most  mischievous  notion,  a disease  of 
the  mind,  which  occasionally  affects  painters — this  was  a firm 
conviction,  that  some  vehicle  had  been  discovered  for  convey- 
ing colours  to  the  ivory,  which  gave  force,  clearness,  and  every 
good  quality  ; but  that  it  was  kept  secret  by  those  who  used 
it,  and  gave  great  advantages  to  certain  colourists.  This  me- 
grim having  taken  possession  of  his  brain,  the  consequence 
was,  that  if  the  time  which  spent  in  drawing  and  practising 
with  pure  water,  would  have  produced  the  effect  he  wished, 
wras  wasted  in  filterings  and  chemical  experiments.  He  pur- 
sued a phantom,  as  alchymists  of  old  sought  the  philosopher’s 
stone — and  with  the  success— to  the  same  encouragement  of 
irritability  of  temper,  already  too  sensitive,  and  the  waste  of  pro- 
perty and  more  precious  time.  1 must  however  acknowledge, 
that  by  his  distillations  and  filterings  he  produced  some  of  the 
cleanest  pigments  that  ever  I used  ; and  he  bestowed  upon  me 
specimens  of  all  the  necessary  colours  for  miniature. 

In  1806  he  justly  considered  that  he  had  nothing  to  fear 
from  my  rivalry — he  would  not  have  been  so  liberal  towards 
Malbone.  The  fame  of  this  young  painter  annoyed  Trott,  for 
he  had  none  of  that  feeling  which  rejoices  at  a rival’s  success, 
nor  of  that  self-confidence  which  perhaps  causes  the  generous 
sensation.  Malbone  proposed  an  exchange  of  specimens  with 
him,  probably  to  show  the  different  manner  by  which  two  emi- 
nently successful  artists  arrived  at  their  respective  excellence. 
But  Trott  considered  and  denounced  it,  as  an  insidious  mode 
of  comparison  with  his  own  : forgetting,  that  if  such  an  advan- 
tage could  be  taken  by  one,  it  w^as  equally  in  the  power  of  the 
other.  Though  not  acknowledged,  this  jealousy  shows  a con- 
sciousness of  inferiority,  or  at  least  a fear  of  the  humiliating 
truth. 

In  1808,  Mr.  Trott  and  Mr.  Sully  were  joint  tenants  of  a 
house  in  the  metropolis  of  Pennsylvania,  pursuing  their  re- 
spective branches  of  the  art.  Mr.  Sully,  who  long  knew  Trott, 


416 


Trott’ s mysterious  marriage. 

says,  that  he  was  in  all  things  extremely  sensitive  ; and  in  many 
things  generous  and  truly  right  minded. 

When  Sully  returned  from  Europe,  in  1810,  he  again  took 
a house  in  conjunction  with  Trott.  But  during  the  violence 
of  the  opposition  made  by  the  associated  artists  to  the  Penn- 
sylvania Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  Trott,  led  by  Murray,  spoke 
harshly  of  Sully,  because,  being  a director  of  the  academy,  he 
did  not  join  the  association  in  their  opposition. 

In  1812  Mr.  Trott  exhibited,  at  the  Academy,  several  min- 
iatures of  great  merit.  “ The  works  of  this  excellent  artist,’  * 
says  a writer  in  the  Portfolio,  “ afe  justly  esteemed  for  truth 
and  expression.  In  examining  his  miniatures,  we  perceive  all 
the  force  and  effect  of  the  best  oil  pictures  ; and  it  is  but  fair 
to  remark,  that  Mr.  Trott  is  purely  an  American — he  has 
never  been  either  in  London  or  Paris.”  The  same  writer 
compares  Trott’s  miniatures  to  Stuart’s  oil  paintings:  with- 
out going  so  far,  I can  speak  with  approbation  of  two  of  his 
portraits,  which  had  extraordinary  merit,  that  of  Benjamin 
Wilcox,  Sully’s  friend,  and  a friend  of  the  arts  ; and  a lady 
in  a black  laced  veil.  Very  dissimilar  in  manner,  but  both 
very  fine. 

In  1819,  when  passing  through  Philadelphia,  I found  Trott 
preparing  to  go  south,  Philadelphia  had  become  too  cold  for 
him.  He  went  to  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  and  some  one 
has  remarked,  that  at  the  same  time  there  were  in  that  city 
three  artists  of  the  names  of  Trott,  Rider  and  Canter.  He 
returned  to  Philadelphia,  and  was  generally  to  be  found  there 
until  he  made  a mysterious  marriage;  and  not  having  the  ef- 
frontery to  announce  as  “ Mrs.  Trott,”  a person  whose  origin 
he  was  ashamed  of,  he,  after  suffering  for  some  time,  took  re* 
fuge  in  New-Jersey,  whose  laws  offered  him  a release  in  con- 
sequence of  a limited  term  of  residence,  and  he  resided  for 
some  years  in  obscurity  at  Newark. 

He  did  not  return  to  Philadelphia,  where  his  business  and 
reputation  had  suffered,  but  removed  to  New-York  ; and  his 
miniatures  having  become  poor,  and  appearing  poorer  in  com- 
parison with  those  of  younger  artists,  he  tried  oil  portraiture 
with  no  success.  He  painted  a few  oil-portraits  in  New-York  ; 
but  although  he  had  enjoyed  intimately  the  opportunity  of 
studying  Stuart,  and  was  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  his  man- 
ner, nothing  could  be  more  unlike  Stuart’s  portraits  than 
those  painted  by  Trott. 

After  remaining  in  New-York  some  years,  rather  in  obscuri- 
ty, generally  shunning  his  acquaintance,  he  went  to  Boston, 
probably  his  native  place,  in  the  year  1833,  after  an  absence  of 
perhaps  more  than  forty  years. 


Jeremiah  Paul. 


41 7 


Trott  was  rather  inclined  to  be  caustic  in  his  remarks  upon 
others,  (especially  artists,)  than  charitable.  He  would  introduce 
a bitter  remark  with  a kind  of  chuckle,  and  “ upon  my  soul  I 
think,”  and  conclude  with  a laugh,  “ I think  so,  upon  m3'  soul 
I do.”  If  he  saw  any  one  in  the  street  approaching,  with 
whom  he  had  a temporary  miff , or  feeling  of  offended  pride, 
or  who  for  any  other  cause,  or  no  cause,  he  wished  to  avoid, 
he  would  turn  the  first  corner  or  cross  the  street,  and  this  was 
so  frequent,  that  any  one  walking  with  him  would  be  surprised 
or  amused  by  the  eccentricity  of  his  proceeding:  if  he  had 
time  and  opportunity  he  would  say  to  his  companion,  “ come 
this  way,”  if  not,  he  would  leave  him  abruptly. 

Of  the  full  medium  height,  thin,  with  a prepossessing  counte- 
nance, Mr.  Trott  had  qualities  which  ought  to  have  led  to 
better  results.  An  early  marriage  with  one  whom  he  could 
honour  and  present  to  his  friends,  without  blushing  and  with- 
out effrontery  as  his  wife,  would  probably  have  secured  to  him 
respectability  and  domestic  happiness. 

JEREMIAH  PAUL— 1791. 

This  was  one  of  the  unfortunate  individuals,  who,  showing 
what  is  called  genius  in  early  life,  by  scratching  the  lame 
figures  of  all  God’s  creatures,  or  every  thing  that  will  receive 
chalk  or  ink,  are  induced  to  devote  themselves  to  the  fine  arts, 
without  the  means  of  improvement,  or  the  education  necessar}' 
to  fit  them  for  a liberal  profession.  They  arrive  at  a certain 
point  of  mediocrity,  are  deserted,  and  desert  themselves. 

About  the  year  1791,  Paul  commenced  portrait-painter,  after 
having  copied  prints,  and  even  made  some  enlarged  oil  pic- 
tures from  the  engravings  of  West’s  pictures.  I remember 
Cromwell  dissolving  the  long  parliament.  “Take  away  that 
bauble.” 

John  Wesley  Jarvis  mentions  him  thus,  in  a letter  to  me  : 
“About  1800,  there  were  four  painters  in  partnership,”  this 
was  in  Philadelphia,  “ Jeremiah  Paul  was  good,”  Jarvis  must 
mean  compared  to  the  others,  “ Pratt  was  pretty  good — he  was 
generally  useful,”  he  was  far  superior  to  Paul.  “ Clark  was  a 
miniature  painter — Retter  was  a sign  painter — but  they  all 
would  occasionally  work  at  any  thing,  for  at  that  time  there  were 
many  fire-buckets  and  flags  to  be  painted.  When  Stuart  painted 
Washington  for  Bingham,  Paul  thought  it  no  disgrace  to  let- 
ter the  ‘ books.’  ” 

When  Wertmuller’s  Danae  made  a noise  in  our  cities,  Paul 
tried  his  hand  at  a naked  exhibition  figure,  which  1 was  induc- 

53 


418 


Academies  for  teaching  the  fine  arts. 

ed  to  look  at,  in  Philadelphia,  but  looked  at  not  long.  Nei- 
ther did  it  answer  Paul’s  purpose.  Our  ladies  and  gentlemen 
only  flock  together  to  see  pictures  of  naked  figures  when  the  sub- 
ject is  scriptural  and  called  moral. 

Jn  1806,  1 found  Paul  in  Baltimore,  painting  a few  wretch- 
ed portraits,  and  apparently  prostrated  by  poverty  and  intem- 
perance. This  is  the  last  I have  known  of  him.  He  was  a 
man  of  vulgar  appearance  and  awkward  manners. 

J.  R.  Lambdin,  Esq.  a pupil  of  T.  Sully’s  and  native  of 
Pittsburg,  in  a letter  to  me,  says  that  Paul  “ Visited  Pittsburg 
in  1814,  painted  many  good  portraits  and  better  signs.  From 
the  sight  of  one  of  the  latter  I date  my  first  passion  for  the  pro- 
fession I pursue  : it  was  a full  length  copy  of  Stuart’s  Wash- 
ington, and  was  elevated  over  the  door  of  a coffee-house,  in  a 
diagonal  corner  opposite  my  mother’s  house.”  Again,  “Paul 
introduced  to  the  admiration  of  the  citizens  the  exhibition  of 
phantasmagorias,  and,  I believe , painted  the  first  scenery,  to 
the  first  theatre  erected  in  the  west.  He  died  in  Missouri 
about  the  year  1820.” 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  school  for  the  fine  arts — The  Columbianum— The  New- York  Academy  of 
Fine  Arts— Pennsylvania  Academy. 

1791.  Academies  (real  and  nominal)  of  the  fine  arts, 
form  an  important  item  in  the  progress  of  the  arts  of  design. 
The  first  attempt  at  such  an  establishment  was 

THE  SCHOOL  FOR  THE  FINE  ARTS— 1791. 

Charles  Wilson  Peale,  in  the  year  above-mentioned,  at- 
tempted to  form  an  association  under  this  title.  Ceracchi,  the 
great  sculptor,  joined  in  the  scheme,  but  it  proved  abortive. 
Mr.  Peale  made  a second  attempt,  and  called  the  intended 
institution 

THE  COLUMBIANUM— 1794. 

In  this  he  was  rather  more  successful.  He  collected  a few 
plaster  casts,  and  even  opened  a school  for  the  study  of  the 
living  figure,  but  could  find  no  model  for  the  students  but 
himself.  The  first  exhibition  of  paintings,  in  Philadelphia, 
was  opened  this  year,  in  that  celebrated  hall  where  the  decla- 
ration of  independence  was  determined  upon  and  proclaimed. 


419 


The  New-York  academy  of  the  fine  arts. 

The  pictures  were  borrowed  from  the  citizens.  This  associa- 
tion of  artists,  of  whose  names  l find  only  Charles  Wilson 
Peale,  Joseph  Ceracchi,  and  William  Rush,  held  their  meet- 
ings at  the  house  of  Mr.  Peale.  Some  other  artists,  princi- 
pally foreigners,  joined  in  this  plan  ; but  the  foreign  artists, 
and  Ceracchi  at  their  head,  separated  from  the  Columbianum, 
and  after  the  first  exhibition  it  died.  Ten  years  after  Mr. 
Peale’s  first  attempt,  some  of  the  most  enlightened  citizens  of 
New-York,  with  a view  to  raising  the  character  of  their  coun- 
trymen, by  increasing  their  knowledge  and  taste,  associated 
for  the  purpose  of  introducing  casts  from  the  antique  into  the 
country.  These  worthy  citizens,  though  none  of  them  artists, 
called  themselves 

THE  NEW-YORK  ACADEMY  OF  THE  FINE  ARTS— 1801. 

At  a meeting  of  these  gentlemen,  Dec.  3,  1802,  Edward 
Livingston  was  requested  to  take  the  chair,  and  by  ballot  the 
following  persons  were  elected  : — Edward  Livingston,  presi- 
dent, Col.  Wm.  Smith,  Dr.  Jos.  Brown,  John  B.  Prevost, 
Wm.  Cutting,  Wm.  M.  Seton,  and  Stephen  Van  Rensselaer, 
directors,  Robert  L.  Livingston,  treasurer , Dr.  Peter  Irving, 
secretary . It  was  resolved  to  form  lawrs,  to  apply  for  an  act 
of  incorporation  under  the  title  of  “ The  New-York  Academy 
of  the  Fine  Arts,”  and  to  extend  the  shares  to  five  hundred,  to 
be  paid  by  instalments. 

*The  charter  was  not  obtained  until  1808.  The  words 
“New-York”  w7ere  exchanged  for  “ American,”  and  the 
w7ord  “ Fine”  was  omitted.  We  had  then  these  gentlemen  of 
every  profession,  but  that  of  an  artist,  constituted  by  law  an 
academy  of  arts.  By  this  charter,  dated  Feb.  12,  1808,  to 
continue  in  force  twenty-five  years,  Robert  R.  Livingston  and 


* Robert  R.  Livingston,  Esq.  when  residing  in  Paris  as  ambassador  from  this 
country,  purchased  by  order  of  these  gentlemen,  and  sent  to  iXew-York,  the  fol- 
lowing plaster  casts  : — The  Apollo  Belvidere — Venus  of  the  capitoj — Laocoon 
— Gladiator — Silenus — Grecian  cupid — Castor  and  Pollux — Germanicus — Her- 
maphrodite— Venus  of  the  bath  and  Torso  of  Venus — with  the  busts  of  Homer, 
Demosthenes,  Niobe,  Euripides,  Hippocrates,  Artimisia,  Cleopatra,  Alexander, 
Bacchus,  Roma,  Seneca,  Augustus,  Gicero,  Brutus,  and  Zenophon. 

I copy  this  from  a list  furnished  by  John  G.  Bogert,  Esq.  When  these  casts 
arrived  in  New-York,  a building  on  the  west  side  of  Greenwich-street,  which  had 
been  erected  for  a circus  or  riding  school,  was  hired,  and  the  statuary  opened  for 
public  exhibition.  This  did  not  attract  much  attention  ; and  the  funds  of  the  so- 
ciety suffering,  the  casts  were  packed  up  and  stored.  After  the  charter  was 
granted,  the  use  of  the  upper  part  of  a building,  once  intended  as  a house  for  the 
president  of  the  (J.  S , but  occupied  as  the  custom  house,  was  loaned  to  the  aca- 
demy, and  the  casts  removed  thither.  They  were  again  removed,  packed  up,  and 
stored,  until  1816. 


420 


Tlte  Pennsylvania  academy  cf  fine  arts. 

% 

others  then  being,  and  such  as  may  become  members,  are 
constituted  a body  coporate,  with  the  usual  privileges,  their 
income  being  fimited  to  $5000  the  year:  the  stock  not  to 
consist  of  more  than  one  thousand  shares  at  $25  the  share  : 
the  management  to  be  with  a president,  vice-president,  and 
five  directors.  The  first  officers  were  Robert  R.  Livingston, 
'president,  John  Trumbull,  vice-president , Dewitt  Clinton, 
David  Hosack,  John  R.  Murray,  William  Cutting,  and 
Charles  Wilkes,  directors.  It  will  be  observed  that  there  was 
now  one  artist  in  the  association,  Mr.  Trumbull.  The  casts 
and  books  were  removed  to  the  upper  story  of  the  custom 
house,  which  was  granted  rent  free,  and  there  exhibited  for  a 
time,  then  re-packed  and  re-stored,  sleeping  quietly  with  the 
association. 

In  the  mean  time  the  importation  of  casts  into  New-York, 
and  the  name  of  an  academy  of  arts,  produced  important 
effects  in  the  sister  city  of  Philadelphia.  We  have  seen  above, 
that  the  artists  of  Philadelphia  made  the  first  move  in  the 
cause  of  the  fine  arts  ; but  were  too  few,  and  too  poor  proba- 
bly, to  establish  an  academy.  If  they  had  succeeded,  a real 
academy  would  have  been  opened,  with  schools  for  various 
branches,  and  teachers  for  the  schools. 

In  1805,  Jos.  Hopkinson,  Esq.,  stimulated  by  a view  of  the 
casts  executed  in  Paris  after  the  antique,  which  were  in  the 
possession  of  the  New-York  academy,  and,  by  his  own  taste 
and  patriotism,  proposed  to  several  gentlemen  of  Philadelphia 
the  establishment  of  a similar  institution.  They  undertook  it 
with  zeal,  and  executed  it  with  promptitude.  Seeing  that  the 
nominal  academy  of  arts  was  useless,  and  attributing  it  to  the 
want  of  a building  for  the  casts,  they  erected  an  elegant  and 
appropriate  building,  while  the  necessary  measures  for  pro- 
curing plaster  casts  from  Europe  were  pursued,  and  in  April, 
1807,  the  Pennsylvania  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  was  opened,  a 
charter  having  been  obtained  in  1806,  and  a president  and 
directors  elected,  among  the  latter  were  two  artists.  On  this 
occasion" an  address  was  delivered  by  Mr.  Clymer,  the  presi- 
dent of  the  institution.  At  first,  statues  and  busts  alone  were 
thought  of  for  exhibition  ; but  Mr.  Robert  Fulton,  of  New- 
York,  having  purchased  a portion  of  Alderman  Boydel’s  great 
Shakspeare  Gallery,  and  other  excellent  European  paintings, 
placed  them  with  the  Pennsylvania  academy,  for  their  use  and 
the  public  gratification.  The  great  attention  which  these  pic- 
tures excited,  suggested  the  idea  of  establishing  annual  exhi- 
bitions for  the  advantage  of  the  academy  and  the  improvement 
of  public  taste. 


421 


Society  of  artists  of  the  United  States. 

In  May,  1810,  a number  of  artists  and  amateurs  of  Phila- 
delphia formed  an  association,  which  they  denominated  “ The 
Society  of  Artists  of  the  United  States.”  They  drew  up  a 
constitution,  which  was  signed  by  sixty  persons.  They  were 
invited  by  the  members  of  the  Pennsylvania  Academy,  to  hold 
their  meetings  in  the  building  erected  by  those  gentlemen,  and 
they  accepted  the  invitation.  In  six  months  the  society  in- 
creased to  upwards  of  one  hundred,  and  they  proposed  an 
union  with  the  academy,  so  as  to  form  but  one  institution  ; 
this,  however,  was  found  impracticable  at  the  time,  and  shortly 
after  an  arrangement  was  made,  and  a written  agreement  en- 
tered into,  and  signed  by  five  members  of  each  institution,  by 
which,  for  a consideration  of  two  thousand  dollars,  proposed 
as  the  wish  of  the  society,  the  members  of  the  society  became 
entitled  to  “ free  admission  to  the  academy  in  like  manner 
with  the  members  thereof to  the  right  of  using  the  speci- 
mens of  art;  to  “the  right  of  making  their  annual  exhibition 
in  the  rooms  of  the  academy  for  six  weeks ; during  which 
time  the  academy  also  to  be  open  to  the  inspection  of  the 
visitors  of  the  exhibition,”  and  to  the  most  commodious  rooms 
and  the  use  of  the  property  generally  for  the  schools  of  the 
society. 

On  the  6th  of  May,  1811,  the  first  annual  exhibition  of  the 
Society  of  Artists  of  the  United  States , in  conjunction  with 
the  directors  of  the  academy,  was  opened  to  the  public ; pre- 
viously to  which  an  oration  was  delivered  by  Jos.  Hopkinson, 
Esq.  The  receipts  of  the  exhibition,  during  the  stated  period 
of  six  weeks,  amounted  to  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty  dollars. 
After  which,  by  concurrence  of  the  two  associations,  the  exhi- 
bition was  continued  one  week  longer,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
sufferers  by  fire  in  Newburyport,  Massachusetts — four  hundred 
and  ten  dollars  was  received,  and  appropriated  to  this  purpose. 

On  the  8th  of  May,  1811,  an  oration  was  delivered  before 
the  Society  of  Artists  and  the  public,  by  Benjamin  H.  Lat- 
robe,  Esq.,  and  on  the  fifth  of  June  following,  a committee 
was  appointed  by  the  Society  of  Artists  to  confer  with  a com- 
mittee of  the  Pennsylvania  Academy,  on  the  subject  of  a more 
intimate  union  of  the  institutions;  but  a difference  of  opinion 
produced  a resolution  of  the  society,  that  it  was  best  to  con- 
tinue a “ distinct  and  independent  institution.” 

Thus  it  will  be  seen,  that  a real  Academy  for  teaching  the 
fine  arts,  was  formed,  under  the  title  of  “ Society  of  Artists,” 
while  the  associated  patrons  of  the  arts  were  by  law  called  the 
Academy.  The  first  exhibition  of  the  “ Associated  Artists” 
was  made,  by  agreement,  under  the  roof  of  the  “ Pennsylvania 


422 


Artists  and  patrons  differ. 

Aeademy  of  the  Fine  Arts,”  in  1811.  This  exhibition  I at- 
tended, but  my  notes  on  the  subject  are  very  meagre.  A Ceres, 
by  Wertmuller,  is  mentioned  with  dissatisfaction-— a street,  by 
Strickland,  the  architect— -and  Views  on  the  Schuylkill,  by 
T.  Birch. 

The  Society  of  Artists,  and  the  Pennsylvania  Academy, 
both  opened  schools  ; and  the  consequence  of  a want  of  union, 
between  those  who  held  the  purse  and  those  who  possessed  the 
knowledge,  was,  that  the  schools  languished  and  failed.  The 
Society  of  Artists,  after  a time,  dissolved  ; and  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts  became,  and  has  continued, 
merely  an  Institution  for  collecting  and  exhibiting  pictures  and 
statuary.  As  such  it  is  valuable,  and  tends  to  the  civilization, 
refinement,  and  good  taste  of  the  public  : but  it  is  an  Acade- 
my only  in  name. 

In  October,  1824,  the  artists  presented  some  by-laws,  which 
they  wished  the  Academy  to  adopt,  they  being  willing  to  co- 
operate with  that  institution  ; but  the  Directors  insisted  on 
the  privilege  of  rejecting  academicians,  though  elected  by  that 
body  to  fill  vacancies ; and  that  the  President,  an  eminent 
lawyer,  shall  judge  of  the  qualifications  of  an  applicant  to  be- 
come a student.  This  answer  stopped  all  proceedings  at  that 
time. 

In  1828  the  resident  artists  of  Philadelphia  appointed  Mess. 
John  Neagle  and  James  B.  Longacre  to  draw  up  a memorial, 
which  was  signed  by  twenty-seven  artists,  and  presented  to 
the  Pennsylvania  Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts,  in  which  they 
enumerated  their  grievances.  They  complain  that  they  have 
no  voice  in  hanging  their  works  for  exhibition — that  their 
works  are  mingled  with  those  of  old  masters,  and  injured  by 
the  prejudices  of  society — that  the  annual  exhibitions  are  not 
attended,  because  the  Academy  keeps  an  open  exhibition  all 
the  year — that  the  casts  intended  for  the  student  are  made  part 
of  the  exhibitions — that  they  have  no  voice  in  the  appointment 
of  the  keeper — that  the  rooms  granted  to  the  use  of  artists 
were  appropriated  by  the  keeper  to  his  private  use — and  gen- 
erally, that  although  their  works  must  eventually  support  the 
Academy,  they  are  treated  as  ciphers.  The  Board  of  Direc- 
tors appointed  a committee  to  reply  to  this  memorial,  and  the 
reply  was  signed  by  Jos.  Hopkinson,  president.  The  reply 
tells  the  artists  how  much  the  patrons  have  done  for  the  arts ; 
notwithstanding  which,  44  a few  artists,  of  a restless  and  am- 
bitious temper,  and  impatient  for  personal  authority  and  dis- 
tinction, propagated  opinions  that  artists  only  should  have  the 
government  of  an  Academy  of  Arts.”  They  say  what  is 


Artists  think  they  are  competent  teachers  of  art . 423 

groundless,  “ that  experience  was  opposed  to  this  theory ; — 
they  insinuate  the  danger  of  placing  their  property  under  the 
management  of  artists.  They  say  that  no  artist,  “ in  any 
country,  ever  received,  or  expected  any  other  return  for  the 
exhibition  of  his  pictures,  than  the  introduction  of  them  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  public,  and  the  fame  and  emolument  he 
would  derive  from  that  knowledge.”  All  this  is  intended  in 
good  faith,  but  exposes  the  ignorance  of  these  gentlemen  in 
the  history  of  the  arts. 

John  Trumbull  received  in  New-York  from  the  academy 
$200  for  the  use  of  pictures  for  one  exhibition.  The  artists 
of  England  have  and  do  receive  pecuniary  emolument  and 
relief  from  the  funds  accumulated  by  the  exhibition  of  their 
works.  But  the  artists  of  Philadelphia  did  not  ask  any  remu- 
neration for  exhibiting  their  works,  they  asked  just  considera- 
tion, distinction,  and  honourable  treatment.  The  directors 
tauntingly  tell  the  artists  that  having  been  paid  by  their  em- 
ployers for  their  pictures,  they  are  at  the  disposal  of  purchasers, 
and  may  be  borrowed  for  exhibition  without  any  debt  due  to  the 
artist.  The  directors  claim  the  right  to  elect  the  teachers,  i.  e. 
lawyers,  physicians,  and  merchants  elect  the  competent  lecturers 
and  masters  in  schools  of  art ! The  whole  reply,  though  profess- 
ing to  wish  to  give  satisfaction,  is  very  little  calculated  to  pro- 
duce that  effect,  and  consequently  the  rejoinder  of  the  artists, 
signed  by  order  of  the  resident  artists,  “John  Neagle  and 
James  B.  Longacre,”  expresses  their  diminished  hopes  in,  and 
expectations  from  the  directors,  as  their  opinions  relative  to 
artists  and  their  rights  are  so  opposite  to  those  entertained  by 
the  professional  artists  of  Philadelphia.  They  touch  on  the 
subjects  in  controversy  and  conclude,  “We  are  not  prepared 
to  accede  to  any  terms  whatever  which  will  compromise  the 
respect  which  we  owe  to  ourselves  or  the  obligations  we  feel 
to  sustain  to  the  utmost  of  our  power  the  dignity  of  our  pro- 
fession.” 

It  was  the  intention  of  the  artists  to  have  an  exhibition  of 
their  works  under  their  own  direction,  and  they  applied  for 
Sully  & Earle’s  gallery,  which  was  offered  for  half  the  clear 
proceeds.  This  plan  fell  through,  and  I believe  the  affairs  of 
the  academy  have  declined,  and  artists  coldly  look  on  and  oc- 
casionally exhibit  their  works  in  the  apartments  of  the  institu- 
tion.* * 


By  an  artist  of  Philadelphia. 

* “The  Pennsylvania  Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts”  in  Philadelphia,  Chestnut- 
street,  between  Tenth  and  Eleveth-streets,  north  side.  This  institution  owes  its 


424 


Further  particulars. 

In  another  chapter  I shall  continue  the  subject  of  academies 
as  attempted  in  New-York. 


origin  to  a few  gentlemen  of  Philadelphia — seven  lawyers,  one  carver,  two  physici- 
ans, one  auctioneer,  one  wine-merchant,  and  one  painter  constituted  the  first  board 
of  officers.  Incorporated  28th  March,  1806.  The  property  was  divided  into  300 
shares,  of  50  dollars  each.  A building  was  erected  on  a lot  on  ground-rent. 
Within  a few  years  an  addition  to  the  academy  was  erected  on  the  east  for  the 
statues,  now  called  the  “Antique  Gallery.”  In  1810,  a society  of  arts  was 
formed,  called  the  “ Society  of  Arts  of  the  United  States .”  There  was  one  also 
called  the  “ Columbian  Society  of  Arts.  ’’ 

The  “ Academicians ,”  a body  of  artists,  were  organized  and  were  attached  to 
the  academy  on  the  13th  March  1810.  I do  not  know  how  long  they  acted  in 
concert  with  the  academy,  but  Mr.  Edwin,  who  was  one  of  the  original  academi- 
cians, told  me  that  diplomas  were  promised  to  them  by  the  board  of  directors,  and 
that  at  some  public  meeting,  where  ladies  were  invited,  each  academician  receiv- 
ed, with  great  pomp  and  ceremony,  a paper  tied  with  a pink  riband,  which  were 
thought  to  be  the  diplomas,  until  they  reached  home  and  went  to  exhibit  the 
honours  conferred  upon  them  to  their  families  and  friends  ; when,  lo  ! to  their 
disappointment  and  chagrin,  each  had  a piece  of  blank  paper  ! I believe  this  was 
the  death  blow  to  all  zeal  on  the  part  of  the  artists  of  that  day.  This  fact  I never 
knew  until  after  I had  become  an  academician. 

When  the  artists  complained  of  the  trick  played  off  upon  their  credulity,  they 
were  promised  soon  “ righty  dighty ” ones,  but  to  this  day  no  one  has  ever  been 
thus  honoured  by  the  board. 

The  first  exhibition  held  in  the  Pennsylvania  Academy  was  in  1811,  since 
which  an  exhibition  in  the  spring  has  been  held  annually,  except  1833.  This 
year  no  artist  was  in  the  board  after  the  death,  of  Mr.  Rush,  the  ship-carver. 

By  reference  to  the  catalogue  of  the  first  exhibition  in  1811,  I do  not  find  the 
title  P.  A.  or  Pennsylvania  Academy.  The  printed  book,  however,  says  they 
were  organized  in  1810.  The  catalogue  of  the  third  exhibition  in  1813,  is  in  the 
name  of  “ Columbian  Society  of  Artists.” 

I find  the  titles  P.  A.  in  the  catalogue  of  the  2d  exhibiton  in  1812.  The 
duties  of  the  academicians  were  unattended  to  for  years,  and  the  titles  ceased  to 
be  printed  with  catalogues  until  the  year  1824,  when  several  artists  were  elected 
by  the  old  academicians  and  most  of  these  elections  were  confirmed  by  the 
directors.  I called  the  meeting  which  led  to  this  step  at  my  own  house.  Mr. 
Rembrandt  Peale  being  one  of  the  party,  and  Sully  another,  it  was  suggested  to 
re-organize  the  body  of  academicians — we  did  so  after  uur  election  by  the  aca- 
demy, and  our  first  meeting  in  the  academy  (as  academicians,)  was  on  the  evening 
of  October  18,  1824 

The  artists  of  Philadelphia  themselves  are  much  to  blame.  They  want 
firmness  and  consistency,  and  now  they  exercise  no  authority  in  the  academy. 
Mr.  Sully  has  backed  out  from  the  Board  of  Directors,  and  so  did  I before  him. 
I don’t  think  he  will  ever  serve  as  an  officer  again.  Mr  Inman  was,  the  other 
day,  elected  a director,  and  he  is  the  only  painter  in  the  board,  and  whether  he 
will  truckle  to  these  aristocratic  gentlemen,  remains  to  be  seen. 

I believe  George  Murray,  the  engraver,  was  the  ring-leader  in  mischief,  in  the 
early  history  of  our  academy,  but  this  was  long  before  my  time  ; he  died  before 
I had  entered  as  an  artist.  Mr.  Sully  can  say  much  of  the  early  history,  and  he 
will  not  say  a great  deal,  I think,  in  favour  of  Murray. 


Alexander  Robertson . 


425 


CHAPTEP  XX  II I. 

Alexander  Robertson— Joshua  Cantir— M.  Bclzons— English  Earle— John  Roberts 
—his  versatility  as  a mechanic,  musician,  painter,  and  engraver — intempe- 
rance and  death.— Walter  Robertson.— R.  Field— Adolph  Ulric  Wertmuller— 
William  Birch— John  Valance — James  Thackara — Alexander  Lawson— Jen- 
nings. 

ALEXANDER  ROBERTSON— 1792. 

This  gentleman  was  born  at  Monymusk,  near  Aberdeen,  in 
North  Britain,  in  the  year  1768.  His  father  was  an  architect 
and  draftsman,  and  his  elder  and  younger  brothers,  Archibald 
and  Andrew,  are  both  artists.  Andrew  stands  in  the  first 
rank  of  miniature  painters  in  London,  and  as  far  as  my  know- 
ledge extends,  is  the  first  in  the  rank.  Of  Archibald  I have 
spoken  above.  He  arrived  in  1791,  and  finding  that  Ame- 
rica was  a land  of  performance  as  well  as  promise,  he  wrote 
for  Alexander  to  join  him  in  New-York.  Andrew  was 
then  a child  ; previous  to  embarking  for  America,  Alexander 
passed  five  months  in  London  in  the  summer  of  1 792,  and  took 
lessons  in  miniature  painting  from  Shelly.  He  embarked  at 
Liverpool,  and  in  the  autumn  met  his  brother  in  New-York, 
where  he  had  some  practice  as  a miniature  painter,  and  had 
established  a drawing  school  underthe  title  of  “ the  Columbian 
Academy  of  painting.”  Mr.  Alexander  Robertson  associated 
with  his  brother  in  this  institution,  and  afterwards  when  con- 
ducting a similar  establishment  of  his  own,  has  been  the 
teacher  of  many  successive  generations  in  the  rudiments  of  the 
arts  of  design.  Mr.  John  Vanderlyn  received  his  early  in- 
structions at  the  “Columbian  Academy.”  In  1816  Mr.  Ro- 
bertson was  elected  secretary  to  the  American  Academy  of 
Fine  Arts. 

If  Mr.  Robertson  had  been  no  otherwise  instrumental  in 
furthering  the  progress  of  the  arts  of  design  in  this  country,  we 
owe  him  much  for  freely  communicating  to  us  a very  valuable 
manuscript  treatise  on  miniature  painting,  detailing  every  part 
of  the  process,  with  instructions  for  each  successive  sitting. 
This  was  written  by  his  brother  Andrew  for  Alexander’s  use, 
but  through  his  liberality,  has  assisted  very  many  of  our  first 
artists  in  that  branch  of  the  art. 

Mr.  Robertson  sketches  and  paints  landscape  in  water 
colours  with  great  facility.  He  has  been  the  instructor  of 
many  young  ladies  who  are  distinguished  for  talent  and  skill. 
Miss  Hall  stands  very  prominent  among  our  best  painters  of 
miniatures,  and  was  for  a time  his  pupil.  Several  ladies  under 

54 


426  Cunningham , Raeburn , Robertson  and  Cogdel. 

the  tuition  of  Mr.  Alexander  Robertson,  have  attained  skill  in 
the  painting  of  landscape  in  oil.  A copy  from  Ruysdaal  by 
Miss  Stora,  I remember  as  exciting  my  surprise  and  giving 
me  much  pleasure. 

Mr.  Robertson  married  Miss  Provost,  a niece  of  Bishop 
Provost,  and  is  surrounded  by  a large  and  worthy  family. 
He  is  himself  one  of  the  most  amiable  men  of  my  acquain- 
tance. 

Allan  Cunningham  in  his  lives  of  painters,  tells  us  that 
Raeburn  “ was  elected  an  honorary  member  of  the  Academy 
of  Fine  Arts  at  New-York,”  and  goes  on  to  say,  “the  secre- 
tary, Robertson,  says  in  his  intimation  to  Raeburn  of  this 
transatlantic  honour,  that  ‘ the  institution  is  in  a flourishing 
condition,  and  the  collection  of  paintings  is  rapidly  increasing. 
In  addition  to  such  pictures  as  the  funds  of  the  society  permit 
it  to  purchase,  the  friendly  donations  of  many  of  the  honorary 
members  will  enable  it  to  boast  of  specimens  of  most  of 
the  distinguished  artists  of  the  day.’  In  1821  he  was  elected 
an  honorary  member  of  the  Academy  of  Arts  of  South  Caro- 
lina. The  communication  of  Cogdel,  the  secretary,  is  in 
a strain  more  to  our  liking  than  that  of  his  brother  secreta- 
ry of  New-York : no  hint  of  the  donations  of  works  by  new 
members.” 

Mr.  Alexander  Robertson  is  not  to  be  charged  with  the 
eleemosynary  spirit  and  hint  of  this  letter.  It  was  the  common 
mode  adopted  by  this  nominal  academy,  to  procure  presents 
from  persons  of  distinction,  whether  artists  or  not.  I do  not 
know  that  the  pope  was  made  a member  of  this  society  of 
physicians,  lawyers,  and  merchants,  but  his  friends  Napoleon 
and  Lucien  Bonaparte  were,  and  paid  the  admission  fee  duly 
and  punctually.  Raeburn,  simple  soul,  thinking  that  he  had 
to  deal  with  a school  of  artists,  took  the  hint,  and  sent  to 
New-York  a very  fine  head,  the  portrait  of  an  American  gen- 
tleman, at  that  time  in  Edinburgh,  which  is  a monument  of 
his  talents  and  liberality,  and  a model  for  every  student  of  the 
art  of  portraiture. 

Mr.  Robertson  still  teaches  drawing  and  painting;  and 
another,  and  another  generation,  may  profit  by  his  instruc- 
tions. 


JOSHUA  CANTIR— 1792. 

This  gentleman  came  to  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  in 
1792  from  Denmark,  and  became  a resident.  He  had  re- 
ceived his  education  as  an  artist,  under  a professor  of  the  aca- 


Cantir — Belzons — Earle— Roberts. 


427 


demy  at  Copenhagen.  He  painted  and  taught  drawing  for 
many  years  in  Charleston.  “ He  was,  says  my  correspondent, 
“ devotedly  attached  to  the  art,  and  possessed  talents,  which, 
under  more  favouring  circumstances,  and  with  that  profes- 
sional competition  which  he  did  not  find  at  that  time  in 
South  Carolina,  might  have  raised  him  to  a higher  standing 
among  artists  than  he  actually  enjoyed.  He  died  in  Ncw- 
York. 


M.  BELZONS— 1792. 

Was  a native  of  France,  and  painted  miniatures  and  other 
portraits  in  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  in  1792.  I should 
probably  never  have  heard  of  him,  if  he  had  not  been  the  first 
instructer,  for  a short  time  of  Thomas  Sully,  whose  sister  he 
had  married.  M.  Belzons  had  lost  his  fortune,  and  been 
driven  to  America  by  the  French  revolution,  the  source  of  so 
much  present  misery  and  future  good  ; and  he  employed  that 
skill,  which  had  been  attained  as  a source  of  amusement,  or  an 
elegant  accomplishment  in  France,  to  the  purposes  of  gaining 
a reputable  subsistence  in  a foreign  country  for  himself  and 
family. 

EARLE— 1792. 

An  English  gentleman  painted  portraits  in  Charleston, 
South  Carolina,  at  the  above  period.  Mr.  Sully  when  a boy 
saw  him  ; and  when  he  went  to  England,  visited  his  widow  and 
gave  her  an  account  of  him  and  his  death  by  yellow-fever,  af- 
ter he  had  embarked  his  property  to  return  home. 

JOHN  ROBERTS— 1793, 

Was  born  in  Scotland  1768,  and  came  to  America  in  1793. 
Possessed  of  remarkable  talents,  and  receiving  a good  educa- 
tion, he  turned  every  advantage  to  little  account  either  for 
others  or  himself  by  instability,  and  the  want  of  that  prudence 
which  is  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  good  gifts  bestowed  upon 
his  countrymen.  He  was  truly  eccentric,  and  probably  prided 
himself  too  much  upon  his  eccentricity. 

He  was,  (says  my  informant,)  a good  mathematician — -pas- 
sionately fond  of  music,  and  complete  master  of  most  instru- 
ments.— A musical  club  was  formed  in  New-York,.  where  he 
resided,  of  which  my  friend  Charles  Rhind*  our  first  consul 
to  the  Porte,  and  through  whom  our  treaty  cf  commerce  with 
that  power  was  formed,  Benjamin  Trott,  the  distinguished 
miniature  painter  and  others  of  my  acquaintance  were  members  • 


428 


Roberts's  versatility 

they  met  in  a room  adjoining  the  Methodist  meeting-house  in 
John-street,  and  struggled  with  all  the  instruments  they  could 
muster  to  overpower  the  discords  of  their  neighbours- — but  in- 
flated minds  acting  upon  inflated  lungs,  put  down  the  united 
efforts  of  fiddles,  flutes,  clarionets,  and  trumpets,  and  they  were 
obliged  to  give  up  the  contest  and  remove  to  another  place  of 
meeting. 

The  ingenuity  of  Roberts  in  mechanics  was  as  great  as  his 
taste  for  the  fine  arts.  He  made  engraving  tools,  and  even  in- 
vented new  to  answer  the  exigencies  of  his  work.  His  friend 
Trott  had  executed  a beautiful  miniature  of  Washington  from 
Stuart’s  portrait  of  the  hero,  and  Roberts  engraved  a plate 
from  it,  but  after  he  had  finished  his  work  to  the  satisfaction  of 
his  friends,  he  was  retouching  it,  when  Trott  came  in,  and 
some  misunderstanding  taking  place  between  the  engraver  and 
the  painter,  Roberts  deliberately  took  up  a piece  of  pumice 
and  applying  it  to  the  copper  obliterated  all  trace  of  his  work  ; 
then  taking  the  miniature,  he  handed  it  to  its  owner,  saying, 
“ There,  sir — take  your  picture — I have  done  with  it — and 
with  you.”  A few  impressions,  taken  as  proofs,  only  exist. 
He  designed  and  engraved  the  frontispiece  for  David  Long- 
worth’s  edition  of  Telemachus,  published  in  1797-8. 

While  he  was  engraving  the  Washington  from  Trott’s 
miniature,  he  invented  a new  mode  of  stippling,  produced  by 
instruments  devised  and  executed  by  himself,  and  which  I have 
been  assured,  were  “ of  such  exquisite  finish  and  workman- 
ship, that  a microscope  was  necessary  to  discover  the  teeth  in 
some  of  the  rollers.”  He  made  a printing-press  for  proving  his 
work.  He  painted  in  miniature  and  drew  portraits  in  crayons  ; 
but  being  engaged  in  constructing  an  organ  on  anew  'principle, 
and  in  contriving  improvements  on  the  steam  engine  for  pro- 
pelling boats,  he  abandoned  the  fine  arts,  and  would  only 
paint  or  engrave  to  procure  the  very  little  money  he  wanted 
for  living  and  making  experiments. 

A correspondent  says,  “ In  music  he  was  a master  on  seve- 
ral instruments.  He  was  the  founder  of  the  Euterpean  Society, 
(which  still  exists,)  and  for  several  years  led  the  orchestra 
thereof  as  first  violin.  Sometimes  he  took  the  clarionet,  which 
he  played  with  uncommon  sweetness,  at  others  he  would  take 
the  flute,  and  he  spent  much  of  his  time  at  the  piano-forte  and 
organ,  both  of  which  he  touched  like  a master.  He  was  much 
engaged  in  mechanics— he  invented  an  economical  stove,  the 
patent  of  which  he  gave  to  an  iron  founder  for  a single  cast- 
ing, the  moulds  of  which  he  made  himself.  He  also  invented 
a bellows  of  singular  power,  which  he  used  in  forging  iron 


429 


Instability  and  death.  Trenchard. 

and  steeh  In  his  mathematical  studies  he  devised  a system  of 
algebra,  which  he  believed  would  render  that  science  as  simple 
as  common  arithmetic.  He  was  an  optician,  and  made  im- 
provements in  preparing  glasses  or  lenses  to  use  in  his  new 
style  of  engraving.  He  was  seized  with  apoplexy  while  de- 
scending the  stairs  of  his  dwelling,  fell  to  the  bottom,  fractured 
his  skull  and  died  immediately,  in  the  year  1803,  at  the  age 
of  thirty.” 

The  reader  may  ask  where  are  his  works  ? Of  what  utility 
to  science  or  art,  his  inventions  ? With  all  his  extraordinary 
powers  he  brought  nothing  to  perfection.  Truth  obliges  me 
to  say  that  with  a mind  so  comprehensive,  and  body  fitted  to 
second  its  dictates,  he  seems  to  have  forgotten  the  purposes  for 
which  such  gifts  are  bestowed,  and  the  source  from  whence 
they  came — he  abused  them — he  became  intemperate,  and  it  is 
most  probable  that  the  fall  which  ended  his  short  life,  was 
caused  by  alcohol  rather  than  apoplexy.  The  low  estimation 
in  which  artists  were  held  at  that  period  in  our  cities,  where 
trade  is  the  source  of  wealth,  and  wealth  the  fountain  of  honour, 
was  both  cause  and  effect  in  respect  to  that  conduct  I have  been 
obliged  to  record : — that  time  is  past.  Artists  know  their  stand 
in  society,  and  are  nowr  in  consequence  of  that  conduct  which 
flows  from  their  knowledge  of  the  dignity  aad  importance  of 
art,  looked  up  to  by  the  best  in  the  land,  instead  of  being 
looked  down  upon  by  those  whose  merits  will  only  be  record- 
ed in  their  bank  books. 

EDWARD  TRENCHARD— 1793. 

This  gentleman  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  and  being  the  son 
of  an  engraver,  received  his  first  lessons  in  the  art  from  his 
father.  Not  satisfied  with  the  knowledge  to  be  obtained  at 
that  period  in  America,  he  visited  England,  and  brought  out 
Gilbert  Fox  to  practise  with  him,  and  teach  him  the  art  of 
etching.  As  I am  informed,  Mr.  Trenchard  was  afterwards 
an  officer  in  the  navy  of  the  United  States. 

WALTER  ROBERTSON— 1793, 

An  Irish  gentleman,  who  came  to  New-York  in  the  same 
ship  with  Gilbert  Stuart.  The  captain  of  the  ship  related  that 
Stuart  frequently  quarrelled  with  Robertson  when  the  decan- 
ter had  circulated  freely  after  dinner,  and  in  his  cups  made 
use  of  abusive  language.  Robertson  took  the* following  me- 
thod to  keep  the  peace.  He  went  to  his  berth,  and  returned 
to  the  cabin  with  a pair  of  pistols.  “ Mr.  Stuart,  we’ll  pass 
over  what  has  gone  by  ; but  the  first  time  you  use  ungentle- 


430 


Walter  Robertson.  R.  Field. 


manly  language  to  me,  you  will  please  to  take  one  of  these 
and  I’ll  take  the  other,  and  we’ll  take  a pop  across  the  table.” 
It  is  said  the  hint  was  taken,  rather  than  the  pop. 

Robertson’s  style  was  unique ; it  was  very  clear  and 
beautiful,  but  it  was  not  natural.  He  went  to  Philadelphia 
before  Stuart,  and  painted  a portrait,  in  miniature,  of  Wash- 
ington ; which  Field,  another  miniature  painter  and  engraver, 
engraved  and  published,  with  decorations  by  Jno.  Jas.  Bar- 
ralet.  It  was  altogether  a failure  ; and  so  little  like  the  Gen- 
eral, that  one  might  doubt  his  sitting  for  it.  His  copies  from 
Stuart’s  oil  portraits  pleased  very  much.  After  painting  in  New 
York  and  Philadelphia  he  went  to  the  East  Indies  and  there 
died. — His  portrait  of  Mrs.  Washington,  engraved  for  the 
National  Portrait  Gallery,  is  like,  and  very  creditable  to  him. 

R.  FIELD— 1793. 

An  English  gentleman,  who  engraved  in  the  dotted  style,  (or 
stippling)  and  painted  very  good  miniatures.  Field  and  Ro- 
bertson both  annoyed  Trott.  Of  Robertson  he  said,  his  ex- 
cellence depended  upon  the  secret  he  possessed — the  chemical 
composition  with  which  he  mixed  and  used  his  colours  ; — of 
Field,  that  his  work  was  too  much  like  engraving. 

Mr.  Field  painted  more  in  Boston,  Philadelphia,  and  Bal- 
timore, than  in  New-York.  He  was  a handseme,  stout,  gen- 
tlemanly man,  and  a favourite  with  gentlemen*  He  went  from 
the  United  States  to  Halifax,  and  I have  not  heard  of  him 
since.  I remember  two  very  beautiful  female  heads  by  him  ; 
one  of  Mrs.  Allen,  in  Boston,  and  one  of  Mrs.  Thornton,  of 
Washington.  In  a preceding  biography  1 have  mentioned 
the  head  of  Washington,  engraved  by  him.  This  picture 
has  the  merit  of  not  representing  the  General  with  a wig  on, 
as  Heath’s  engraving  does  ; but  the  countenance  is  unlike 
Washington’s.  And  one  remarkable  deviation  from  the  Gen- 
eral’s costume  adds  to  the  belief  that  he  did  not  sit  for  it — it 
is  painted  with  a black  stock,  an  article  of  dress  he  never  wore. 

I believe,  when  President,  Washington  never  wore  his  military 
dress ; when  he,  as  General,  wore  it,  he  always  wore  it,  but 
with  a white  cambrick  stock. 

ADOLPH  ULRIC  WERTMULLER— 1794. 

This  artist  was  introduced  to  me  by  Mr.  Gahn,  the  Swedish 
consul,  soon  after  his  arrival  in  this  country  ; and  from  Mr. 
Gahn  I have  expected  a promised  notice  of  him,  as  he  knew 
him  well  and  came  to  America  with  him.  I have  been  disap- 


Westmuller. 


431 


pointed,  and  take  my  information  from  the  Analectic  Magazine 
of  1815. 

“ Adolph  Ulric  Wertmiiller  was,  by  birth,  a Swede,  the  son 
of  a respectable  apothecary  of  the  city  of  Stockholm.  Having 
acquired  the  rudiments  of  the  art  of  painting  at  home,  he  re- 
moved to  Paris  for  the  purpose  of  further  improvement,  where 
he  studied  and  pursued  his  profession  for  several  years.  He 
appears  to  have  acquired  considerable  reputation  on  the  con- 
tinent of  Europe.  He  was  elected  a member  of  the  Royal 
Academies  of  Sculpture  and  Painting,  at  Paris  and  Stock- 
holm ; and,  in  addition  to  these  unsubstantial  honours,  he  re- 
ceived a more  solid  reward,  in  such  a share  of  public  patronage 
as  enabled  him  to  amass  a considerable  fortune.  This  he 
had  placed  in  the  French  funds,  and  in  the  hands  of  a Paris 
banker ; but,  in  that  general  convulsion  of  all  financial  and 
commercial  concerns  which  took  place  in  the  early  part  of  the 
Revolution,  he  lost  the  greater  part  of  his  fortune.  He  then 
determined  to  escape  from  the  storm  which  threatened  such 
general  destruction,  and  try  his  fortunes  in  another  hemisphere. 
In  May,  1794,  he  landed  at  Philadelphia.  In  this  country 
his  paintings  were  admired,  he  received  many  attentions,  and 
President  Washington  sat  to  him  ; but  the  arts  were  then 
strangers  among  us,  and  we  were  not  yet  rich  enough  for  pat- 
ronage. He  remained  here  until  the  autumn  of  1796,  when 
he  re-embarked  for  Europe,  and  returned  to  Stockholm, 
where  he  resided  for  several  years.  Misfortune  still  pursued 
him ; he  lost  a large  sum  by  the  failure  of  a great  house  in 
Stockholm  ; and,  in  disgust,  he  again  returned  to  America, 
and  arrived  at  Philadelphia  in  1800.  Here  he  exhibited  his 
large  and  beautiful  picture  of  Danae,  from  which  he  derived 
a handsome  income.  About  a year  after  his  arrival  he  mar- 
ried a lady  of  Swedish  descent,  who  brought  him  a consider- 
able property.  After  a few  years’  residence  in  the  city  of 
Philadelphia,  he  purchased  a farm  at  Marcus  Hook,  on  the 
Delaware,  and  removed  thither,  where  he  lived  in  ease  and 
comfort  until  his  death,  in  1812. 

“ Not  long  after  his  death,  most  of  his  pictures  were  sold  at 
auction  in  Philadelphia.  A small  copy  of  his  Danae,  by  his 
own  hand,  was  sold  for  five  hundred  dollars  ; and  some  time 
after  the  original  picture  was  sold,  in  New-York,  for  fifteen 
hundred  dollars. 

“Wertmuller  had  studied  his  art  with  great  assiduity  and 
ardour  : he  copied  with  accuracy  the  models  before  him,  and 
imitated  with  success  the  masters  on  whom  he  had  formed  his 
taste. 


432 


Birch—  Valance — Thackara . 


“ His  Danae  is  his  greatest  and  most  splendid  production. 
It  is  indeed  his  great  work  ; and  for  that  very  reason  it  is, 
on  every  account,  to  be  regretted,  that  both  in  the  subject 
and  the  style  of  execution  it  offends  alike  against  pure  taste 
and  the  morality  of  the  art. 

“ As  in  literature,  so  also  in  the  other  productions  of  culti- 
vated genius,  the  connection  between  a corrupted  moral  taste 
and  an  unchaste,  false  style,  is  so  strong,  that,  did  not  frequent 
experience  teach  otherwise,  one  would  think  it  impossible  that 
an  artiot,  who  feels  the  dignity,  and  aspires  to  the  perfection 
of  the  noble  art  which  he  loves,  could  ever  stoop  to  the  pollu- 
tion of  that  art,  and  the  debasement  of  his  own  powers.” 

This  artist  painted  in  New-York,  and  more  in  Philadel- 
phia. It  is  said  that  William  Hamilton,  of  the  Woodlands, 
employed  him  to  copy  the  old  family  pictures,  and  then  de- 
stroyed the  originals. 

WILLIAM  BIRCH— 1794, 

Came  to  America  in  1794.  He  was  born  in  Warwick, 
England.  He  was  an  enamel  painter,  and  settled  in  Phila- 
delphia, where  he  died.  I remember  seeing  a miniature  of 
Washington,  executed  by  him  in  enamel ; which  I thought 
very  beautiful,  and  very  like  Trott’s  copy  from  Stuart’s  ori- 
ginal picture.  My  impression  is,  that  it  was  copied  from  Trott. 
Birch  could  design. 

JOHN  VALANCE- 1794. 

The  name  of  Valance  is  connected  with  that  of  Thackara, 
as  they  worked  in  partnership,  as  engravers,  for  many  years. 
Dobson’s  Encyclopedia  bears  their  marks  on  many  a plate. 
Alexander  Lawson  says  of  him,  “he  had  attempted  to  copy 
a head  of  Franklin,  and  also  one  of  Howard,  with  some  suc- 
cess. He  was  certainly  the  best  engraver  at  this  time  (1794) 
in  the  United  States  ; and  had  he  been  placed  in  a more  fa- 
vourable situation,  he  would  have  been  a fine  artist.” 

JAMES  THACKARA— 1794. 

The  partner  of  the  above,  but  inferior  to  him  as  an  engra- 
ver. He  was  a long  time  keeper  of  the  Pennsylvania  Acad- 
emy of  Fine  Arts  ; not  as  the  term  keeper  is  used  in  Eng- 
land, but  merely  having  charge  of  the  property.  Mr.  Thack- 
ara is  a respectable  citizen. 


Alexander  Lawson. 


433 


ALEXANDER  LAWSON— 1794. 

Of  this  gentleman,  my  valuable  correspondent,  Mr.  John 
Neagle,  sa}^s,  he  is  “ the  best  engraver  of  birds,  in  America. 
He  engraved  for  Wilson’s  Ornithology.” 

In  a letter  to  a friend  who  had  requested  Mr.  Lawson  to 
give  him  a memorandum  respecting  his  first  efforts,  and  the 
state  of  the  art  of  engraving  at  the  period  of  his  arrival  in 
America,  he  writes: — 

“ I was  born  near  Lanark  in  Scotland,  in  the  year  1773. 
Trifling  circumstances  gave  me  very  early  a love  for  prints, 
and  my  schoolmaster  drawing  a little,  (though  he  gave  me  no 
instruction  in  it,)  increased  my  fondness ; so  that  my  books 
had  as  many  houses,  trees  and  birds  in  them  as  sums.  I went 
to  Manchester,  in  England,  when  sixteen.  A print  store  was 
near  us,  where  some  of  the  first  prints  were  kept — and  my  in- 
timacy with  a bookseller,  who  showed  me  all  the  best  works 
with  engravings,  caused  me  to  become  enthusiastically  attached 
to  the  art. 

“ I read  all  the  books  on  art  I could  meet  with ; but  they 
were  of  little  use.  My  first  efforts  at  engraving  were  made  on 
smooth  half-pennies  with  the  point  of  my  penknife ; and  at 
this  I became  pretty  expert.  I soon  after  obtained  a graver, 
which  was  made  by  a blacksmith  from  my  description  of  the 
instrument,  as  I understood  it  to  be  from  a figure  I found  in  a 
book.  We  made  a clumsy  affair  of  it,  and  it  worked  very 
stiffly  ; but  it  was  a step  forward. 

“ When  in  the  country,  where  I often  was,  I used  to  amuse 
myself  of  an  evening  in  ornamenting  the  pewter  tankard,  out  of 
which  I drank  my  ale.  A gentleman  who  called  upon  me 
about  three  years  ago,  (after  I had  been  thirty-six  years  in 
America,)  told  me  that  when  in  the  West-riding  of  Yorkshire, 
while  putting  up  at  an  inn,  he  happened  to  mention  that  he 
was  going  to  the  United  States,  and  the  landlord  immediately 
brought  forward  a tankard  of  my  ornamenting,  which  he  said 
he  had  preserved  carefully  ever  since  I was  at  his  house,  and 
intended  so  to  do  as  long  as  he  lived.” 

This  is  one  of  the  many  little  incidents  which  sweeten  the 
cup  of  life ; and  I doubt  not  but  the  knowledge  of  the  value 
set  upon  this  early  work  of  his  art,  gave  more  pleasure  to  the 
artist  at  the  age  of  threescore  than  the  most  flattering  recep- 
tion given  to  the  most  perfect  production  of  his  graver,  when 
he  by  dint  of  study  and  perseverance,  in  the  land  of  his  adop- 
tion, had  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  one  branch  of  his  pro- 
fession. It  came  from  afar,  associated  with  the  recollections  of 

55 


434 


Lawson  an  American  artist . 


youth,  bright  hopes,  and  his  former  home.  The  artist  thus 
proceeds — “ I bought  a graver  at  last.  I had  points  made  for 
etching,  and  tried  that.  I then  got  a mezzotinto  tool,  and  tried 
that  mode  of  engraving — I tried  every  thing,  and  did  nothing 
well,  for  want  of  a little  instruction.  I was  then  connected 
in  trade  with  my  brother;  but  loving  art  better  than  trade,  and 
taking  different  views  of  political  questions  from  those  of  my 
brother,  I gave  up  my  share  in  the  business,  and  in  my  twen- 
tieth year,  embarked  at  Liverpool  for  Baltimore,  where  I ar- 
rived on  the  14th  of  July,  1794.  I staid  in  that  city  one  week, 
and  then  came  to  Philadelphia,  where  I have  remained  ever 
since.  Thackara  and  Valance  were  partners  when  I came  to 
Philadelphia.  I engraved  with  them  two  years.  They  thought 
themselves  artists,  and  that  they  knew  every  part  of  the  art; 
and  yet  their  art  consisted  in  copying,  in  a dry,  stiff  manner 
with  the  graver,  the  plates  for  the  Encyclopedia,  all  their  at- 
tempts at  etching  having  miscarried.  The  rest  of  their  time, 
arid  that  of  all  others  at  this  period,  was  employe-d  to  engrave 
card-plates,  with  a festoon  of  wretched  flowers  and  bad 
writing — then  there  was  engraving  on  type  metal — silver  plate 
— watches — door-plates — dog-collars  and  silver  buttons,  with 
an  attempt  at  seal-cutting.  Such  was  the  state  of  engraving 
in  1794.” 

In  conversation  Mr.  Lawson  said  that  while  he  worked  with 
Thackara  and  Valance  he  improved  himself  by  studying  draw- 
ing. He  afterwards  worked  for  Dobson,  and  engraved  the 
plates  for  the  supplement  of  the  Encyclopedia. 

He  likewise  worked  for  Barralett,  the  painter  and  designer, 
and  afterwards  formed  a kind  of  co-partnership  with  him,  but 
was  obliged  to  quarrel  with  the  eccentric  Irishman  before  he 
could  get  any  share  of  profits.  Mr.  Lawson  is  a tall,  thin 
man,  of  large  frame,  and  athletic;  full  of  animation,  and  in- 
clined to  be  satirical,  but,  as  I judge,  full  of  good  feeling  and 
the  love  of  truth.  Krimmell  and  Wilson  he  speaks  of  in  raptu- 
rous terms  of  commendation,  both  as  to  talents  and  moral 
worth.  Murray,  on  the  contrary,  with  great  asperity. 

Mr.  Lawson  engraved  the  Rev.  John  Blair  Linn’s  plates 
for  his  poems,  the  designs  by  Barralett.  He  likewise  engrav- 
ed the  plates  (and  beautiful  they  are)  for  the  nine  volumes  of 
Wilson’s  Ornithology,  and  Charles  Lucien  Bonaparte’s  four 
additional  volumes.  He  is  one  of  the  many  examples  of  a na- 
tive of  Britain  coming  to  America  and  making  himself  an 
artist. 


435 


Jennings. 

JENNINGS— [of  Philadelphia]— 1794. 

Of  this  painter  all  I know  is,  that  he  was  in  London  prac- 
tising art  about  this  period.  Colonel  Sargent  in  a letter  to 
me,  says,  “There  was  a Mr.  Jennings,  from  Philadelphia,  in 
London,  to  whom  I had  a letter  from  Colonel  Trumbull.  I 
know  not  what  has  become  of  him,  though  1 had  a letter  from 
him  some  time  ago  informing  me  of  his  success  in  4 manufac- 
turing old  'pictures  for  the  knowing  ones ,’  and  that  it  was  very 
curious  to  hear  their  observations  upon  the  merits  of  these 
works  of  the  old  masters.”  Of  course  he  was  an  impostor, 
leading  a life  of  falsehood  and  deception ; and  probably  ended 
it  at  Botany  Bay,  unless  his  meritorious  knavery  exalted 
him  to  a higher  situation  in  the  country  of  his  adoption. 


END  OF  VOLUME  I. 


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